Special Delivery
by Ladykestrel
Summary: Brass and Iris embark on a case where she will support Brass who must shoulder a unique responsibility that will result in significant stressors. Will their friendship be strengthened or become a casualty as a result?
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: "CSI: CRIME SCENE INVESTIGATION" and other related entities are owned, (TM) and (c) by ANTHONY E. ZUIKER, JERRY BRUCKHEIMER Television, CBS Worldwide Inc., Alliance Atlantis Corporation, CSI Productions and CBS Productions, All Rights Reserved. This is a purely an outlet of creative writing inspired by a superb TV series and out of respect for my favorite actor, Paul Guilfoyle. The character of Iris King is my own creation.

A/N: . Brass and Iris embark on a case where she will support Brass who must shoulder a unique responsibility that will result in significant stressors. Will their friendship be strengthened or become a casualty as a result?

"Special Delivery"

Acknowledgements: "Anybody Out There"; artist – Rissi Palmer; writers - Lisa A. Drew, Shaye Smith. "Just As I Am"; artist – Faith Hill; writers – Karen Staley, Bob Dipiero. Excerpt from "Forrest Gump" – Novel by Winston Groom; screenplay by Eric Roth. Excerpt from "The Truth About Cats and Dogs"; written by Audrey Wells. Special thanks to Joan P. for beta patrol and Mel-O for listening to my thinking out loud.

Chapter One

Not again, thought the man. He peered through the peephole of his apartment door at the scene that was now all too familiar. The man and woman who lived across from him were arguing again in the hall. His wife sat anxiously on the couch near him, wringing her hands at the sounds they both heard.

"Bitch! You holdin' out on me again? Won't get your sorry skinny ass out there to work when I tell you! Knocked up again too. Who wants to ride a pregnant 'ho? What use are you to me now? At least you got that pretty mouth of yours and back end to make some scratch by…"

"Please, Dice, I'm sick…I need to see a doctor about the baby," the woman's voice pleaded.

The man inside his apartment tensed, watching through the peephole as the young, auburn-haired, slender woman was slapped repeatedly by the taller, heavily-built, blonde-haired and goateed man called "Dice." The young woman was doing her best to duck his blows by bending over to protect her midsection but he moved more quickly than she and took advantage of it. The man's lips met grimly while his hand reached down toward the door knob to intervene. It was the young woman they saw little of and their efforts to introduce themselves had been fruitless. The young woman would smile shyly and say little more than hello and good-bye.

"Baby, I'm going out there, I can't stand that a-hole's abuse of that poor girl no more," he told his wife.

"Charles, please, you can't go out there. That Dice is bad news! What if he's got a gun or a knife? Don't get involved!" his wife begged, her voice breaking, as she got up and grabbed his arm.

"Neecie, he's gonna do worse this time I can feel it. She's pregnant too. I can't just stand by," Charles growled back.

"Honey, we can call 911 in a little bit," Neecie coaxed in a strained voice.

Charles glanced back and saw her expression, causing him to relent but he struggled with the decision just the same.

"Okay, I'm willing to give a short time here but just this much," Charles indicated as he held his thumb and forefinger up fractionally apart. He resumed his vigil through the peephole as he watched the man called Dice open up the apartment door across from their own then push the young woman through the door and slam it shut.

"Neecie, you better pray we did the right thing," Charles sighed as he sat down by her on the couch. They resumed watching their movie and eventually went to bed.

X X X X X

The sound of shattering glass and a high-pitched scream brought Charles out of an already restless sleep and, Neecie sat up with him in their bed. There was silence for several moments followed by a barely heard scratching sound that became a faint knocking at their front door. Charles was up in seconds with Neecie following fearfully behind him as they approached the door. He picked up the baseball bat he kept by the door for those "just in case" possibilities. Keeping up his resolve, he gripped the door knob and opened the door slowly only to look down when his mouth gaped in disbelief.

Propped against the door frame was the young woman whose face was battered and nearly unrecognizable. Her clothes were ripped and torn as she tried to keep herself covered. She was bleeding from her nose and mouth as dark reddish black marks masked her cheeks and chin. Three irregular lacerations marked her face in the mid left cheek that oozed dark red blood. The young woman gazed up at Charles with beseeching eyes and one weakly raised hand that emphasized her plea. She groaned in pain as her other hand went to her gravid abdomen protectively. Charles swallowed hard as he realized he didn't even know her name. He knelt down by her and placed a hand gently on her shoulder to reassure her.

"Dice do this to you?" he asked in a hoarse whisper after several moments.

The young woman nodded mutely as the other apartment door swung open and Dice strode out menacingly toward them. Charles stepped in front of her protectively but casually. He held the bat by his side as he said with a shade of sarcasm. "Neecie, see to our neighbor girl here while I talk to this…gentleman."

"Get out of the way, old man, my business is with her," Dice sneered as he came to stand a foot away from Charles.

"Sorry, I can't do that," said Charles as he maintained his stance, blocking Dice.

"Says you and who else?" snarled Dice agitatedly as he pushed at the older man with one hand and pulled a switchblade knife from his pocket with the other to threaten Charles with. His intent to get at the young woman cradled by Neecie was his only focus. He didn't count on what followed to happen.

"Me and my friend Mr. Louisville Slugger," replied Charles as he whipped the bat up, gripped firmly between his fingers, and hit Dice with two fast but solid swings – one to Dice's hand carrying the knife causing him to cry out with an agonized yelp that was cut short when the other went to his jaw. Dice collapsed in a senseless heap at Charles' feet.

"Home run, baby," Neecie cried out in relief before she felt the young woman slump against her. "Honey, she's fainted!"

"I'm going to carry her inside and lay her on the couch. You call 911 for the police and ambulance, then I'm going back out to keep guard over that dickless wonder out there," instructed Charles as he carefully picked up the young woman to take her inside, followed by Neecie. Dice never even twitched.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Grissom's team had assembled early in the break room to await their night assignments. Catherine and Sara sat next to each other as they discussed the outcome of a case they'd just finished working. Warrick and Nick were still disagreeing with each other over a referee's call on the basketball game in progress between the LA Lakers and Houston Rockets going on the break room television in the background. Iris was listening to her Ipod as she sat on the other side of Catherine by Greg. She softly sang to herself a song that had become a favorite for her. Grissom stood chatting with Brass just inside the doorway since Jim was also waiting for his first call out.

"C'mon, Iris, sing it for me, please!" Greg coaxed as he went down on bended knee beside her with folded hands in one of his trademark theatrical moves that was rarely seen these days. His antics caused the rest of the team to smile or chuckle.

"Greg, I could sing but I'd rather not, it's a bit personal to me," Iris insisted as she gave Greg something of an annoyed look.

"Aw, I'll treat you to breakfast at the end of shift," Greg cajoled as he now caught the shared interest of Sara and Catherine.

"Go ahead, Iris, shut Junior CSI up," laughed Catherine.

"Yeah, Iris, go for it, we could do with some entertainment before Griss slams us," Sara chimed in with a sly grin as she caught Grissom's eye and he gave her a quick wink.

"Oy ve," Iris colored slightly but decided to take the challenge but up the stakes. "Okay, I need backup singers here. You two have heard this in my Bronco." To the surprise of her teammates, Iris had recently traded in her beloved Jeep for a 1996 Bronco with 4-wheel drive.

"We're in," Catherine said gamely as Sara nodded in agreement.

Iris turned to plug her Ipod into a CD boom box stereo kept in the break room and upped the volume slightly. She began to sing in between alto and soprano as Sara joined with a slightly lower alto and Catherine chimed in with her own throatier but sultry sounding alto. Iris adjusted her pitch and tone to blend between them.

Warrick gave Catherine a killer smile as he'd never heard her sing let alone harmonize, his hands playing air keyboards under the table on his thighs. Nick found his toe tapping along and nodding while Greg's fingers drummed along in time on the tabletop. Grissom's eyebrows rose mildly in surprise as Brass watched as well when Iris also signed the lyrics for Grissom.

Acapella, the women sang the song "Is Anyone Out There"…

"_Lyin' on a hillside  
All alone in the twilight  
Watchin' the stars pop out  
Feelin kinda small right now  
Contemplatin' all that space  
All the planets in their place  
Wonderin' where I fit in  
As the world slowly spins around me  
Around me, the universe surrounds me  
I thirst and I hunger  
I search and I wonder  
Is there anybody out there  
Somebody out there  
That one body out there  
I believe there's gotta be  
A love for me somewhere  
Who's prayin' the same prayer  
Is there anybody out there  
Lookin' for me  
4 billion people  
A haystack and a needle  
If only I could catch a ride  
On the passin' side of life  
With a different point of view  
Maybe then I'd find you  
But I'm stuck here on the ground  
Askin' the dark out loud  
Is he close?  
Is he near me?  
Can anybody hear me?  
Is there anybody out there  
Somebody out there  
That one body out there  
I believe there's gotta be  
A love for me somewhere  
Who's prayin' the same prayer  
Is there anybody out there  
Lookin' for me  
Oh, I believe  
There's gotta be  
A love for me somewhere  
Who's prayin the same prayer  
Is there anybody out there  
Lookin' for me  
Is anybody out there?"_

As the song ended, the trio of women found themselves to be applauded by their male teammates, even Grissom and Brass adding in as Catherine's saucy grin, Sara's signature gap-toothed smile, and Iris' own lips slowly curved upward. But Catherine's curiosity had been piqued beforehand as she suddenly turned to ask Iris, "So why is that a bit personal for you?"

"Like I have any kind of a love life," Iris replied as her nose crinkled.

"Didn't you get asked out by Donaldson on swing shift?"

"If you call getting invited to go skydiving buck naked, I guess so."

"He's a joker, Iris, so that had to be a put-on."

"No, there's such a group here in Vegas and he's a member and he said it's a standing offer because I need to broaden my horizons according to him."

"You haven't dated at _all _since you came here, what, months ago?"

"Uh, no, but that's okay as the whole dating thing for me is not all that and a bag of chips."

Sara gave Iris a sideways glance before saying, "Don't tell me your idea of a night out is going alone to a chick flick movie and then a party of one at a restaurant?"

"Look it, I eat out with the team or you two goofs a few times a week and that's enough except for when I bring in a spread for the team. I'll admit I watched one of my favorite so-called chick flicks "Bed of Roses" last night. Oh me, the part where she gets the flowers from a possible secret admirer still gets me and those beautiful steel grey roses are tops on my list," Iris' face took on a dreamy expression as Catherine and Sara exchanged the same look.

"Iris, can I tell 'em about staying overnight at your place?" Sara suddenly asked with a mischievous look.

"Um, sure, go ahead," Iris consented guardedly.

This caught the attention of everyone present, even causing Grissom and Brass to look on.

"Well, remember a few months ago when my apartment was flooded by a broken pipe in the middle of the night? Iris was the first person I thought of to see if I could crash with and spend the night because Grissom's mother was visiting him and we were still being discrete about things at the time. Of course she agreed and answered the door wearing a man's T-shirt and boxers, not Victoria's Secret, mind you. I love to kid Iris so I ask her if she's got company already or what guy left his underwear behind. Iris blurts out Brass' name, can you believe it!" Sara finished with a grin.

This caused a round table chorus of hoots and chuckles as Brass raised an eyebrow Iris' way, pursed his lips and nodded his head slowly but he'd play along. "So, Iris, when do I get to come by and get my things or, better yet, when are you popping over to get your intimates? It's starting to pile up at my place!"

The volume of the hoots and hollers only increased as poor Iris blushed scarlet. Her hand flew over her mouth a moment before she gave a weak laugh as she tried to salvage her dignity. "Gang, it was for shock value!"

Catherine moved to refocus the conversation.

"You mean you do wish you had a secret admirer?" asked Catherine with a brow arched in surprise.

"Sure, who wouldn't? That ain't gonna happen but like a line from the movie, I could go on for years with the idea of one," Iris sighed as she took out her ear bud headphones because Grissom motioned to them he was readying assignments.

Hearing Brass' cell phone ring, her eyes met Jim's for a fleeting moment. He shot her a sly wink before he turned to go then, she focused on Grissom. She had to admit Brass had been a good sport about what had just transpired. Jim joined the CSI team on rare occasions to eat after shift, and Iris had enjoyed trading barbs with him about their fierce loyalty to their sports teams – his in Boston and hers from Dallas.

About fifteen minutes later, Grissom sat at the head of the table with a small stack of papers to begin dispensing assignments but to Iris he could just have been easily dealing out a poker game. His face took on a uniquely owlish "Grissomish look" known to all the team when he was particularly intent on concentrating. Grissom's own cell phone rang now, interrupting his focus. He glanced at the phone in annoyance before he took the call. He wrote down some brief notes, reshuffled the papers like a deck of cards, adjusted his glasses and began to slide assignments to his respective team members.

Iris waited patiently as Nick and Warrick got a combination arson/419 involving three bodies found hanging upside down; Greg and Sara would field two B&E's of adult toy shops; Catherine had an accident scene involving a fatality DUI. Her fingers flexed and extended beneath the table as she wondered what was coming her way. Grissom saved hers for last as he deftly sent it sliding her way, reminding Iris of a puck on ice, thinking he should've learned to play hockey.

Iris scanned over the details of a pregnant sexual assault victim and saw that Brass was the covering detective. She bit her lower lip at the circumstances, glanced at Grissom and nodded before she stood to walk out after the rest of the team.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

As Iris pulled into the apartment parking lot, she saw an ambulance and Brass' Dodge Charger parked by another LVPD patrol car. Jim was standing beside the open doors of the ambulance with an older African-American couple when he spied the dark green Bronco with a large gold star emblazoned on the hood. Iris had kidded him that she just had to have that color in honor of her Dallas Stars hockey team. After getting her kit from the front seat, she opened the door to find Brass standing there with a hand extended to help her down.

"You're too little to be driving this beast," he joked with a wink.

"Hey, it's horsey and anything equine I can ride, bucko," Iris jabbed back.

"Right, but you do need to get running boards still," Brass said as he jerked his thumb at the Bronco.

"Yes, my Captain," Iris agreed. "Where's the young lady?"

"She's in the ambulance getting checked out by the EMTs. Hey, let me introduce you to some good citizens. Charles and Neecie Phillips, this is Investigator Iris King from the crime lab. Charles here literally went to bat for his young neighbor when her scumbag pimp messed her over but good. He's on the All-Star Citizen's team in my book and you can pinch hit for me anytime, pal," Brass said as he shook hands with Charles.

"Mr. and Mrs. Phillips, the pleasure is mine," Iris said pleasantly as she also shook hands with the couple.

"We're worried about Martina, the little pregnant girl," Charles said as he gave a concerned look toward the ambulance with a deep sigh. "Why does it take something like tonight for us to learn her name?"

"As soon as I do my forensics examination of her, she'll be taken directly to the hospital," Iris reassured them as she then turned toward Brass. "Jim, where's the dilrod who did this?"

"He's in the patrol car. Finally came to about 15 minutes ago after Charles cold-cocked him with his Louisville Slugger. The EMT's also checked him over to make sure he was coherent. Officer Brewster, open the door so we can take a gander," Jim said as the officer obliged and opened the door. Dice's eye, where the bat had caught him in the face, was already turning spectacular hues of blue to dark purple.

"That old bastard could've killed me! I want him arrested for assault," screeched Dice when he saw Charles.

"Uh, no dice, Dice, it was self-defense and the wife backs it up," Brass said with a pronounced sneer as he motioned to Officer Brewster to drive off.

"No dice, Dice?" Iris whispered up at Brass with raised eyebrows.

"I'm on a roll," Jim said drolly with a shrug as he walked with her toward the ambulance. "Vincent "Dice" DiCenzo is a two-bit pimp with a small stable of women and thinks he's just shy of hitting it big. Another low-life who thinks he's going to be the next high roller. Vice is well-acquainted with him. He has a reputation for fast turnover in his women, a real mean S.O.B who'll beat them or use drugs to keep them in his so-called service. Just short of slavery if you ask me. You better go see to who really needs your attention."

Iris approached the EMT standing outside the ambulance where he was sneaking a quick smoke. He quickly stubbed his cigarette out when he saw Iris and she casually asked, "How's she doing?"

"She's nervous but alert and coherent. He beat the snot out of her and she said he raped her twice . We did a fetal sonogram and the fetus is viable with an acceptable heart rate right now. There's been some bright red vaginal bleeding but a pad should control it. She said she's sore all over but refused anything for pain as she's concerned about the baby. The OB doctor at Desert Palm can tell you more after we get her there," the EMT summarized.

Martina lay quietly on the stretcher but nervously folded and unfolded her hands as Iris climbed inside the ambulance. Iris took a seat beside her and set her kit on the floor.

"Martina, I'm Iris King from the crime lab and I need to do a very quick examination and then you'll get whisked to the hospital to be checked out," Iris introduced herself as she patted the younger woman on shoulder.

"Hi, Iris," Martina said with a tremulous smile before she turned her face away as Iris observed her soft sobs.

"Honey, things are going to sort out for you and your little one," Iris said encouragingly as Martina turned her head to face her.

"How? I got no family here!" Martina said sadly.

"While you're at the hospital, I'll call any family you want and with the help of some local agencies you don't have to go back to what you were doing," Iris responded firmly.

Martina gave her a surprised look. "You don't know me."

"True but that's never stopped me from helping," Iris replied with a warm smile.

"Thanks. You and that detective have been real nice to me and my neighbors too. Most people just turn the other way when they find out what I do or think they know what I do…like my parents," Martina said with an increasingly pained look as she then groaned and clutched at her midsection.

"Martina, are you having contractions?" asked Iris as she closely watched the young woman.

Martina's forehead was covered in a fine dew of perspiration as she exhaled heavily before replying. "I don't know. I just hurt all over from what Dice did when he, when he, when he forced me to…"

"You don't have to elaborate, Martina. I know what his type is capable of. We'll get your statement at the hospital, so just try to relax. I'm going to take some photos, take some swabs from your genital area, and check you for what we call trace evidence like fibers or hairs. I'll be very gentle." Iris opened her kit and retrieved what she needed for the sexual assault examination. As she noted the three cuts on Martina's left cheek, Iris added, "He really clobbered you good on your left cheek."

"He wouldn't let up, just kept punching and kicking between the times when he could get it up and keep it up to keep poking me," Martina said faintly but sarcastically between her swollen, puffy lips.

Iris nodded and grasped Martina's hands in her own. "Detective Brass is one of the best, Martina, he'll stay on this. He especially doesn't care for guys who thump on women."

Martina said nothing as her face suddenly registered surprise and Iris' own eyebrows rose in alarm.

XXXXXXXXXX

Brass waited patiently outside the ambulance. Neecie and Charles remained also because they wanted to know that their young neighbor was okay before being taken on to the hospital. Dice had been taken on to Desert Palm by Officer Brewster for a quick evaluation in the emergency room and then would be taken on to the police department for booking. Jim glanced at his watch and was reviewing his notes when the doors of the ambulance suddenly opened and Iris hopped out with a worried expression. The second EMT shut the doors behind her as the lights began to flash red and blue. The ambulance sirens began to wail as the EMT driver hit the gas and the vehicle sped from the parking lot.

"Iris, what the devil?" Brass asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"I was just finishing up my examination and her water broke. She's gone into labor. Poor kid doesn't have a clue how far along she is and has had no prenatal care. This isn't her first pregnancy. The other two were terminated," Iris said sadly as she watched the whirling lights dim in the distance.

"Neecie, honey, go get your purse. We're going to what hospital?" asked Charles as Neecie hurried upstairs.

"Desert Palm," Brass answered as Charles nodded.

"Jim, she wants us there too. She's scared and doesn't know anyone here in Vegas outside of Dice and her neighbors and now us," Iris said to him and he heard the concern in her voice.

"Come on, I know a short cut," Brass said simply as he headed toward his car. Iris quickly locked the Bronco, kept her kit in hand and trotted over to Jim's car as he held the door open for her.

"Classy," Iris murmured as she took her seat.

"Yeah, never let it be said I don't know my manners," Brass shot back as he climbed into his side of the Charger, started the car and hit the accelerator as Iris barely got her seat belt on. The car barreled into the night with its siren blaring and kaleidoscopic whirling of red-and-blue lights


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

The emergency room of Desert Palm was in near-chaos due to a massive pile-up accident on I-15. Brass' short cut had allowed them to arrive at the hospital a few minutes behind Martina's ambulance. Brass and Iris walked into a waiting room full of accident victims who were being triaged by nurses and doctors as ambulance crews came and went with those whose injuries were severe and necessitated more immediate attention.

They immediately went to the reception desk where Brass showed his badge to the harried looking young woman seated there. "I'm Detective Jim Brass from the LVPD and this is Investigator King from the crime lab. A sexual assault victim in labor was just brought in. Her name is Martina Rogers."

The receptionist scanned her computer screen after several rapid-fired keystrokes. "Our ER is overflowing, so she was taken up to L&D."

"L and D?" asked Brass.

"Labor and Delivery. Come on!" Iris answered as she grabbed him by the arm to head toward the elevators.

"She could be in labor a while," Brass remarked when they were inside the elevator.

"Yeah, babies come on their own timetable," Iris agreed.

"You never had kids, right?" Jim asked.

"Nope, wasn't in the hand I was dealt," Iris replied with a faint sigh. "You heard from Ellie?"

"Naw, I get a phone call or email from her when she wants something. She keeps her distance but that's how she wants it. I just try to keep in touch as best I can," Jim said as he rubbed absently at the back of his neck. Iris recognized by his body language that Ellie would always be a sensitive topic for the captain.

"Always keep the door open," Iris said as she patted his arm encouragingly and Jim nodded with a thin smile.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, they headed toward the nurse's station, Brass strode briskly along as Iris matched his pace without thinking. Brass again showed his badge and introduced himself and Iris to the evening nurse supervisor and then asked where Martina had been taken.

"She's in our observation area with Dr. Conklin, our OB on-call doctor. Follow me, please," the nurse beckoned as she walked toward another large room comprised of glass-partitioned smaller rooms.

"Wait here," the nurse said before she stepped into the first room.

"I'll stay here if you need to go on, Jim. I can call one of the team for a ride back to the apartment complex," Iris said as she glanced at him sideways.

"You tryin' to get rid of me?" Brass joked at her.

Iris flushed slightly before she laughed weakly. "I know your reputation of tenacity, my dear Captain, and it's one of your traits I admire."

"Oh, I've been promoted to my dear Captain, eh? I'll take it," Brass declared with a grin as Iris' blush worsened and her eyes dropped.

Just in time, to Iris' relief, the door opened as the nurse came back out holding two surgical gowns and she handed one to Brass and then Iris along with two masks before she took Iris' kit and backpack. "Put those on and then go in. Dr. Conklin's expecting you but keep it brief. The patient's been asking for you."

"Thanks," Jim said to the departing nurse. He shrugged at Iris before they quickly donned the gowns and masks. He opened the door and they went inside the examination room.

Martina lay on the examining table draped with a sheet and feet up in stirrups. The head of the bed/table was also raised to a 45-degree angle. Dr. Conklin was talking to her in a low, soothing voice as Martina's face grimaced from another contraction. A nurse stood by to assist the doctor as needed. After it had passed, Martina looked past the doctor to see Brass and Iris. She gave them a wan smile in greeting. Dr. Conklin turned to face them.

"Ah, you must be Detective Brass and Investigator King. I'm Doctor Kathleen Conklin and I was called in to see to Martina here," Dr. Conklin said. She was an early thirties, dark-haired, full-figured woman with merry blue eyes behind wire-framed glasses. She exuded a _bona vita_ spirit that the detective and CSI immediately appreciated. "Martina will deliver soon and then she gets to be a good mama. Nurse, get another set of vitals on our young lady here."

The doctor then motioned to Brass and Iris to step outside the room with her. After the door shut, the doctor gave a weary sigh and pulled her glasses off. "Look, I'm putting on my game face for Martina's sake. The S.O.B. that did this to her has caused her to go into premature labor. She's had no prenatal care whatsoever. Her vaginal vault looks like a war zone, so yeah, rape is a given here. She's also got bruising on her inner thighs and trauma to the throat and rectum. Her so-called pimp was sure to get his jollies all ways possible. She tells me she's a prostitute, her last HIV and STD tests were negative, but she goes bareback when paid enough."

Dr. Conklin paused a moment to sadly look back at Martina's room. "Her vital signs are fair and the sonogram shows the baby to be viable. I'd say she's roughly at 32 to 34 weeks in her pregnancy, given that she's unsure about her last period, but I'd like to see the little one have more baking time in the oven for lung development among other things. She needs rest and I'll do my best to offset her labor to give her and the baby the best chance possible."

The door suddenly opened as the OB nurse stepped out looking pale. "Dr. Conklin, she's bleeding!"

Dr. Conklin swiftly went back into to room followed by the nurse, but motioned for Jim and Iris to follow. She pointed to them to stay out of the way in a corner. Dr. Conklin raised the sheet as blood seeped through in a rapidly blossoming stain. Martina groaned and turned her head, focusing her eyes on Jim as he gave an encouraging look as he said, "Hang in there, kid!"

"Nurse, I want a team from the NICU here STAT. Martina, you're fully dilated and this baby's coming quickly. I can't do a C-section. You've got some bleeding but everything's going to be fine. Detective Brass and Investigator King are right here as you asked. I'm going to give you something mild to help with the pain but you'll be wide awake and able to push, okay?"

"I'm ready," Martina replied before she groaned again as another contraction took hold.

"We're here for you, Martina. Mr. and Mrs. Phillips are in the waiting area and they're anxious to see you and your little one soon," Iris said to help bolster Martina's spirits.

The room door opened again as an incubator was wheeled in by the NICU team. Another nurse also came in to assist Dr. Conklin with Martina. Monitoring equipment continued to beep, chirp or chime to add to the increasing noise. The room was now getting steered Iris closer to him as they tried to shrink into the corner but still be visible to Martina. Iris found her hand clasping Jim's as he gave her a side glance, but her attention was on Martina.

"Okay, Martina, I need you to push. That's it. Give me another one now," Dr. Conklin coached.

Martina was breathing raggedly between pushes but Iris could tell the young woman was putting all she had into the effort to deliver her child. "Doctor, I can't push anymore, I got nothing left," Martina said in an exhausted voice as her sweat-heavy hair plastered her forehead. Her face showed the strain and fatigue she was fighting.

"Honey, I can see the head, you got one more good push in you! I know you do. Don't hold back!" Dr. Conklin said loudly before muttering to the nurse by her. "Get me more sponges and towels. As soon as the baby's out, she's going up to the OR for an emergency hysterectomy."

Focusing all her energy, Martina grunted loudly and clenched her teeth as she bore down with the last of her strength. Dr. Conklin gave a war whoop as she held up a red and slimy little body, smacked the buttocks and a reedy cry rewarded the room.

"You have a fine son. If the father was here, he'd get to cut the cord, but there's no time," Dr. Conklin told Martina.

"Anyone could be the father," Martina replied sadly before she locked eyes with Brass. "Doctor, can Detective Brass do it?"

"Uh, Martina, I don't think…," Brass said with upraised hands.

"Please, please do it," Martina beseeched.

"Quickly, Detective," Dr. Conklin's expression told Brass time was of the essence.

Jim went to stand by Martina as the crying baby was placed on her abdomen. He deftly snipped the umbilical cord in two, although to Iris he looked pale but it could've been the room lighting. Once this had been done, Martina was allowed to cuddle her newborn son. Dr. Conklin strongly insisted the baby be taken to the NICU when Martina would be taken to the operating room to tidy things up as she called it.

"He's a handsome little lad," Brass told Martina as Iris came to stand beside him. He held his finger out to the baby who grasped it as Brass grinned. "Little guy's got a grip there."

"A wee prince who's the jewel of your eye," Iris agreed and Jim heard her wistfulness and saw it in her dark doe-like eyes.

"I need to name him," Martina said as her eyes shifted back and forth from Jim to Iris. "Detective Brass, what's your first name again?"

"Uh, Jim…I mean James," Brass answered curiously with a raised eyebrow.

"James. I like that; it's a good solid name. What's your middle name?" Martina's voice was weakening in volume.

"Martina, please, we need to get you upstairs," Dr. Conklin pleaded urgently.

"Not yet! Captain Brass, your middle name, please!" Martina said in a louder voice.

"It's Francis. Please let Dr. Conklin take you up now," Jim insisted as he found his fingers lacing this time with Iris' behind their backs and she squeezed his encouragingly in return.

"Dr. Conklin, Detective Brass and Iris, you're my witnesses. My baby's name is James Francis Rogers. Detective Brass, Iris, if anything happens to me, promise me you'll look out for the baby," Martina said as she handed her infant son to the NICU nurse. The baby was promptly put in the incubator and whisked out of the room to be evaluated. Her voice and strength were waning as she whispered urgently, "Promise me."

"We promise," Jim pledged as Iris nodded in agreement with moist eyes.

"Thank you," Martina murmured as her swollen and bruised eyelids fluttered, then her eyes suddenly rolled back to show white.

"Blood pressure's dropping! My God, she's hemorrhaging! Everyone out of the way, let's get her upstairs now!" Dr. Conklin roared as Martina was rushed from the room followed by the doctor who turned to face Jim and Iris before she left. "Stay in the waiting area. If you're praying people that can't hurt given what's happening!"

Iris looked up at Jim as he took her by the arm and they slowly walked to the waiting area to continue their vigil and bring the Charles and Neecie up to speed.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Brass paced anxiously in the waiting area, looking at his watch now and then. Iris had left briefly to go to the hospital chapel as Jim knew she would. He respected her faith and her openness about it. He believed too but was more private about it and reminded himself to go light a candle on his way out later. It couldn't hurt, he thought.

Jim finally sat down and rubbed wearily at his eyes. He was alone now as Charles and Neecie had left to get something to eat but would be back. Something warm was pressed into his hand as he opened his eyes to find a steaming mug of coffee there as Iris sat down by him. Gratefully, he took a sip of the hot liquid, hoping to feel a jolt from the caffeine soon.

"I got it at the nurse's station and asked that they make it strong. You take one creamer and two sugars if I remember," Iris remarked. "I'm more of a tea drinker myself but they didn't have any Earl Grey so I settled for a hot chocolate."

"Thanks, this is great and, yeah, you remembered right, madam CSI," Brass joked wryly between sips of coffee.

Iris gave him a half-smile before noticing the Phillips weren't there. Brass saw her questioning look at the empty chairs. "They went to get something to eat but will be back."

"This will have to do for breakfast," Iris added as she handed him a large glazed donut in a bag that said Krispy Kreme. "They were bringing these into the cafeteria for later but I know you like these so I snagged us each one. They're still warm."

"Spoil me anytime, Iris," Brass grinned as they "clinked" their donuts in a mock toast.

They ate silently and as Brass was finishing his last bite, Dr. Conklin came around the corner in a blood-splattered surgical gown. She looked drawn and tired as she pulled her surgical mask down.

"Doc, how's Martina doin'?" asked Brass as he wiped his hands with a napkin.

Dr. Conklin looked down a moment before meeting Jim's frank gaze. "She didn't make it. She had placenta previa and the bleeding was too much. I couldn't control it." The doctor let go a few choice words and slammed her fist on the table in frustration.

"What's placenta pr..prev…what you called it?" Jim asked wearily as the sad news sank in.

"Jim, it happens when the placenta is attached too low in the uterus near or over the cervix and it's at risk of tearing away prematurely and causing subsequent hemorrhaging," Iris said tonelessly. Brass recalled she was a former nurse who still maintained her license with a "you never know" philosophy.

"Good definition, Ms. King, you know your stuff," Dr. Conklin stated before adding. "I got something of a medical history from Martina in that she'd been pregnant twice before, admitted to using cocaine throughout the pregnancy and was still actively hooking up until now. You said her pimp caused these injuries and I'll be happy to testify in court that his assault contributed directly to her death. This was one of the most depraved rapes I've ever encountered."

"Believe you me, Doc, nothing would please me more than to kick that low-life's ass but how's my little namesake doing?" Brass asked to temporarily bring up something positive.

"He's holding his own in the NICU, Detective, but the pediatrician's ordered several tests to assess his full health status. I've got to go sign the death certificate so the body can be released for autopsy to your pathologist Al Robbins. Tell him Tawanda said hello," Dr. Conklin said cryptically with a slight wink.

"Would we be allowed to see the baby later today?" Iris asked hopefully.

"I'll write the orders personally that you can both see him anytime and if he's doing okay to even hold him. I don't think the pediatrician will object given the little guy's circumstances. Detective Brass, when will the next of kin be notified?" Dr. Conklin said as she pulled off her surgical cap and wadded it up with the blue outer gown.

"When I interviewed Martina initially she gave me the names of her parents and their phone number. She's from a little town in Nebraska called Meade," Brass stated as he reviewed his notes quickly before putting his notepad back in the breast pocket of his suit jacket. "This is the part of the job I always hate."

"Another lonely Midwest girl looking for something better," Iris murmured to herself but Brass caught it and said nothing.

"I rarely lose a patient and it stings all the more given the situation of this one. If there's anything more I can do, here's my business card with my personal cell phone number. Doesn't matter if it's day or night, I want that young woman to have justice and the piece of trash that hurt her put away for life. I've got another patient to see in admitting but do keep me updated," Dr. Conklin concluded as she got up and went to the elevators.

"Some day, huh, Iris?" Brass growled as he stood up, Iris following suit.

"You said it, Jim. Guess we head back to the apartment and I'll do the sweep to gather evidence then see you back at the lab later this morning," Iris said with a weary sigh to Brass as they walked slowly down the hall to get their own elevator down to the first floor.

"Yeah, I'm very much looking forward to interviewing that upstanding citizen back in the jail. I'm calling the Phillips on the way out to break the news to them. I get to be the bearer of good news yet again," Brass' voice dripped with sarcasm.

"You will get to be the bearer of good news when you tell the Phillips and Martina's parents that the rat bastard who did this is going away to prison for life, hopefully," Iris declared firmly as her dark brown eyes snapped sparks of anger Brass thought.

"Iris, I've never heard you swear before," Jim said with a mock look of shock and exaggerated cocking of an eyebrow her way.

Realizing what she'd said after the fact, Iris clapped one hand over her mouth and made a strangled sound as her expression of chagrin was priceless to Brass.

"It'll be our little secret," Jim promised as the elevator doors opened and they stepped inside.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

A little later in the morning Iris was processing the bedroom of Martina's apartment where Dice frequently stayed as he rotated keeping tabs on the women he pimped out by staying with each one a few days. That way he could keep them intimidated and under his thumb as he took his share of their earnings, leaving them barely enough to get by on. She had worked her way throughout the rooms, taking pictures of a smashed lamp, overturned chair, couch cushions on the floor, drag marks in the carpet, snarls of long light blondish hair pulled out by the roots – the epithelial tags in place. The place looked like a tornado had gone through. Using her UV lamp, Iris swept the light over the linens of the bed as several stains were illuminated. Darker stains indicating blood after Iris had tested chemically contrasted as she grimly took swab after swab to cap and log. At the end, she bagged the linens for additional trace evidence analysis beyond what she'd painstakingly gleaned throughout the apartment.

Going through the drawers of Martina's bureau and checking the closet, Iris found several plastic grocery bags containing baby clothes, blankets, sheets, and booties as Iris held up a small yellow and green knitted pair. Martina had told her in the ambulance she'd never had prenatal care with the routine sonogram, so she had no clue if she was gong to have a boy or girl. It was evident to Iris that Martina wanted her child or she wouldn't have bought clothes with the expectation of keeping the baby.

As she ran her fingers over the delicate patterns of the knitted booties, Iris remembered Brass stopping by after he'd gone to see the Phillips with the sad news of Martina's unexpected death. He had also wanted to make sure Iris was doing okay herself. She'd smiled slightly and punched his arm playfully to say she was fine and throwing herself into fully investigating her part of the case. Iris had even gone so far as to tell Jim they needed to go see a Las Vegas Wranglers hockey game at Orleans Arena some night. Jim said he'd take it under advisement, which Iris interpreted as thanks but no thanks, and then just up and left. She'd chided herself after his rapid departure that he probably thought she was asking him out in some roundabout fashion and that had led to his hasty retreat.

Back at the lab, Iris was toting the evidence bags in when Greg saw her. "Hey, lemme help!"

Greg relieved her of half of the bags as he walked in with her. "Thanks, Greg, your timing couldn't have been better."

"I heard from Brass that your assault victim didn't make it but at least her baby did. That's one bright spot anyway," Greg said as they went into the trace evidence room.

"It is but I'm going to do my best to nail that creep with solid evidence along with what Jim brings to the table with his investigation so hopefully he can't cop a plea. I'm sure he'll waste no time squealing for a court-appointed lawyer," Iris said as she organized the bags on the table.

"Between you and Brass, I'd say the guy didn't stand a chance," Greg observed as he helped open the evidence bags and remove the various items collected from the apartment.

"Thanks again for rescuing of a damsel in distress," Iris grinned as Greg gave her a courtly bow with a sweeping arm before he left.

"Investigator King, would you please report to the receptionist's desk," Iris heard over the intercom as she removed the contents of the last bag.

"What now," Iris muttered to herself as she headed up the hall.

"Judy, what's this about?" asked Iris as she spied the auburn-haired and bespectacled young receptionist seated behind her computer station and answering a phone call. Judy held up one hand and Iris patiently waited after mouthing "sorry" toward Judy. At least it smells nice here, Iris thought to herself.

When Judy's call had concluded, she smiled mysteriously at Iris who raised her eyebrows in a "well" expression. Judy leaned down and then brought up a large glass vase with a dozen lavender-colored ' mouth gaped open.

"What the…?" Iris finally stammered.

"These were special-delivered this morning along with this," Judy gave her a stuffed Beanie Baby bloodhound bearing the name "Tracker" that held a small card in its mouth.

Iris opened the card and read it as her lips went into an "O" shape.

Catherine and Warrick were walking by just then to head home when they stopped upon seeing the roses. He took a quick sniff before asking Judy, "Who got these?"

"Iris did along with a card and, boy, does she look flustered," Judy laughed as Iris gave her a slightly irritated look.

"Come on, girl, spill the beans, who did the deed?" teased Warrick as Iris fought off her trademark urge to blush.

"I don't know. Someone's got to be playing a joke," Iris grimaced as she reviewed the card again.

"What's the card say?" asked Catherine with arched eyebrow as Warrick took the card from Iris.

"Can I read it out loud?" Warrick requested.

"Sure," Iris replied.

Warrick cleared his throat, gave a dramatically pregnant pause Iris thought, before he intoned in a Shakespearean manner, "To one who thinks no one would note, brown velvet eyes that refresh my soul, I am near and not remote, may our two halves become the whole - Your secret admirer."

"Someone's got a flair for rhyming," Catherine remarked as Warrick handed her the card to look over.

"Yeah but lousy timing, bad pun intended. Someone on the team had to have overheard you, Sara and me talking about my personal life," Iris surmised as Catherine gave her the card back.

"Perhaps or maybe you do have a secret admirer who just needed a little prodding to make his or herself known?" Catherine supposed with a sly smirk.

"_Herself_! Funny, Catherine, you know I hit for just one team and that's the testosterone one, even though it's been a long dry season," Iris grumbled.

"You know I'm kidding," Catherine teased. "Go home and enjoy the flowers and that someone's thinking of you."

"Right, when you know full well my brain's gone into investigating mode because of this sad case I'm working with Brass," Iris admitted with a sigh.

"Yeah, we heard the victim didn't make it. A raw deal for sure. But, hey, the baby's okay at Desert Palm so one positive for one negative," Warrick considered. "You and Jim work well together and between you there'll be a good outcome. See you later tonight."

Iris waved them on as the couple went down the hall. Iris privately still laid odds that the two were going to go public anytime about their seeing each other. She smiled slightly to think also of Grissom and Sara who'd only recently made public what the rest of the team had suspected for some time about the true nature of their relationship. She needed to drink the water more around there she told herself. Sighing inwardly, she turned to Judy. "Let me see the log for where the florist is located and the name of the delivery person. Looks like I've got two cases to investigate now."

She made some quick notes, thanked Trudy, tucked the card and bloodhound Beanie Baby in her backpack, picked up the flowers and headed toward the elevators.

Trudy watched her go and slowly shook her head, thinking the CSI's never knew when to quit sometimes.

After Iris got home, she walked Cyrano and Durante and upon returning went to fire her PC up. She checked her email and after going through the usual plethora of spam ads for colon cleansing, male enhancement products, hot chicks gone wild, you've just won…let go a heavy sigh after hitting the delete key. Should she consider eharmony,com or again? For some reason, she just couldn't bring herself to go that route. And now someone out there had entitled himself, yes, himself for she refused to believe differently, as her secret admirer. This had to be a joke she told herself although part of her wanted to hope otherwise.

X X X X X

Brass picked up his cell phone as he was headed back to Desert Palm. He punched the number set to speed-dial. The Dodge Charger swerved slightly as Brass swore under his breath and got a better grip on the steering wheel with one hand. The phone rang several times as Brass began to mutter again that it better not go to voicemail just when the person he was calling finally answered.

"Hey, Jim."

"You been to bed yet?"

"No and I bet you haven't either."

"True. Look, can you meet me at Desert Palm?"

"Sure, something new in the case?"

"Yeah, I'll update you at the hospital, so meet me in the main lobby."

"You got it, bye."

"Later."

xxxxxxxx

Iris parked her Bronco, yawned and stretched before getting out, then walked quickly in from the parking garage to go meet Brass. He stood with his back to her, looking at the elevator, when she gently tapped his arm, smiling slightly at his startled response.

"Holy crap, Iris, say something next time! That just took a year or two off my life and at my age I need 'em! We're heading up to the NICU," Brass exclaimed.

"Sorry, my Captain, so what's new on the Rogers case?" Iris asked contritely as the elevator doors opened and Brass let her go in first.

"First, you know that Dice got swabbed by Greg on being taken to the LVPD for booking after the hospital turned him loose and a sample of the baby's blood for DNA analysis. I'm hoping and praying that the DNA doesn't match. I also got a hold of Martina's parents and broke the news to them. Strange people. The father was totally monotone when speaking and in the background I could hear the mother make one sobbing sound then silence when she was given the news. I told them their grandson was in the NICU and I'd keep them updated on his condition. He told me they're leaving Mead first thing in the morning and driving here because they don't fly. They'll be here within three days. If it'd been me, I would've been leaving today the first flight to Vegas I could catch," Brass summarized.

"I'll ask Wendy to push that DNA analysis through. No reaction at all about baby James?" asked Iris with a knitted brow.

"Baby James?" Jim looked befuddled now.

"He was named after you, so Baby James seemed appropriate when I speak of you or him," Iris clarified with a supportive squeeze of Jim's arm.

"Yeah, so he was. Are we godparents now or some such?" Brass wondered.

"Perhaps not officially but the next best thing until the grandparents arrive," Iris suggested.

The doors opened to the NICU as Jim and Iris stopped in at the nurse's station. Brass showed his badge and ID, as did Iris, and Dr. Conklin's orders were honored. Jim informed the charge nurse that the grandparents were in route and would be in Vegas within a few days, hoping they would then want to come see their new grandchild. They put on gowns before a nurse led them to a glass-enclosed crib where the small infant lay with numerous tubes in place and monitoring equipment chiming or beeping on occasion and oxygen via cannula present in the baby's nose. They spent several moments peering at the infant with café-au-lait skin with dark hair, who made spastic little jerks and twitching movements in his sleep, before Jim looked over at the nurse, a very attractive statuesque young woman with jet black hair and a peaches-and-cream complexion.

"How's he doing?" asked Iris as her previous nursing experience had been geriatric and not at the beginning of the life cycle. She'd enjoyed her nursing class rotation in the nursery but that had been so many years ago.

"Dr. Livingston is the pediatrician. Baby James is about four weeks premature and his lungs are underdeveloped. That's why you see the oxygen tubing and he's being given medication to help his lungs mature. In addition, he has patent ductus arteriosus and a mild degree of congestive heart failure but we'll keep on top of that problem. Lastly, his blood work indicates the presence of cocaine that the mother must have recently taken.

"Can we, uh, touch him?" asked Brass hesitantly.

"Yes, we encourage that and all efforts to bond with the infant. This promotes the sense of well-being for the child and parents. I'm told you were present at the birth?" replied the nurse.

"That's correct. It's like Martina knew she wasn't going to survive. Surprisingly, she named the baby after me and charged us with looking after him. It's our hope the grandparents will be able to take him home to Nebraska once he's released from here," Brass informed the nurse.

"I think that's a marvelous story for him to grow up and hear one day and your part in his naming. My name's Jasmine if you need anything and I promise to help look out for him. We usually keep everyone in masks. As long as neither you have a cold or other upper respiratory infection, he's stable and on antibiotic therapy to help his immune system. I won't require you to wear the masks. I'll open up the crib for you," Jasmine smiled before she turned to leave.

Brass reached in tentatively to touch the baby's hand. "Hey, little man, you got company." The baby's hand immediately seized upon Brass' forefinger after he awoke with a faint cry.

"He's still got a good grip," Brass grinned at Iris. "Say hi to your stand-in god-pop and god-mom for now."

"Hello, little one," Iris said softly as she slipped one hand through to caress the baby's cheek as his face turned and milky bluish eyes gazed at them before he whimpered.

Brass patted the infant's stomach to calm him before withdrawing his hand. "Can he see us, Iris?"

"His eyes will take a bit longer to focus since he's premature but he responds more to sound and touch right now," Iris commented as she watched Brass reach inside his suit jacket and pull out a small teddy bear with a Boston Bruins jersey.

Jasmine was walking by to check on another of her little charges when Iris stopped her. "Jasmine, we brought baby James a gift from home and wanted to know if it's okay to leave in his crib."

"Are there pets at home?" Jasmine asked as she saw the teddy bear Brass held with a hopeful expression but he'd given Iris a sideways look at her use of "we".

"No," replied Jim.

"A future hockey fan, eh? I see no problem with that although I would have recommended something of the Wranglers," Jasmine said before heading to the next crib.

Brass gave Iris a sheepish glance as he placed the teddy bear in the corner near the baby's head. The baby stirred restlessly for a few moments before falling back asleep. "It can be his guardian angel. Iris, are those problems the nurse mentioned serious like in life-threatening?"

"They can be, Jim, but if something happens, he's in the best NICU. We better get going so the little guy can rest," Iris said but they both knew they were reluctant to go.

"Sleep well and dream," Brass said as he gently touched the baby's head in farewell.

Iris patted his arm as they stepped back. "He's in good hands, Jim. If there's any change the staff will alert us. We need to go get some rest and hit the ground running with our investigation so we can put Dice away for life at least."

"You're right, it's just hard leaving him," Brass said a bit wistfully as Iris nodded in agreement. They both glanced back at the crib and its monitoring equipment and the tubes and wiring that seemed to run everywhere .

"We'll come back every day to see him," Iris promised as they headed toward the elevators but not without a few backward looks occurring from each of them.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

At eight o'clock the next morning Doc Al Robbins sat in his office dictating his preliminary autopsy findings of Martina Rogers when he heard a knock and looked up to see Brass standing there. The pathologist's eyebrows rose above his wire-rimmed glasses slightly in surprise. "Greetings, Jim, strange to see you here."

"The morgue's not for me, Al, I don't go for touching dead bodies," Brass confirmed with a slightly queasy look.

"So what brings you down to my level of the dungeon?" asked Doc Robbins pointedly.

"Iris is on her way down from trace where she's been working the Rogers' case so we can both hear your findings," Brass replied as he took a seat across from Doc Robbins. "She should be here soon."

"How's the victim's baby doing and am I hearing right through the grapevine that the little mite is named after _you_?" asked an amused Doc Robbins.

"It's stranger than fiction as they say but yeah the scuttlebutt's is true and I've had my share of ribbing from it," Brass replied with a cocked eyebrow.

Just then Iris came striding in looking a bit harried holding a manila envelope as Doc Robbins gestured toward the other vacant seat. Iris pushed her glasses back up to the bridge of her nose and let a soft "whew" go before handing the envelope to Brass.

"Iris, I keep telling you to abandon your career as a CSI and go back to doing path transcription. The bunch they have doing the autopsy reports don't hold a candle to the work you'd done for me in a pinch," Doc Robbins complained in a sulking tone.

"I like getting out in the field, Al, it keeps me on my toes but never say never," Iris said to placate him.

Brass was looking over the contents of the folder that Iris had given him. He couldn't help it as a large grin broke his craggy features. "I gotta give Wendy a pat on the back with an atta girl. This is good news! Oh, Al, Tawanda sends her regards."

"Tawanda? How'd you hear that name?" asked a startled Doc Robbins.

"Dr. Conklin, aka Tawanda, was Martina's obstetrician and knew you'd probably do the autopsy, so how do you know her?" countered Jim as Iris watched their exchange neutrally.

"Ahem, all I will admit to is dancing with the doctor in question at a convention and that I did have a little too much to drink. In the course of a mean hustle, a misstep with my cane caused us to trip and fall. I landed on top of her in a classic missionary position. I gave her the nickname of "Tawanda" for her personality like in '_Fried Green Tomatoes'_ and she embraced the nickname thereafter," replied Doc Robbins with a bit of a chastened expression. "Mrs. Robbins was there to witness the whole incident but was cracking up so hard along with the rest of the conventioneers that I remained in good graces."

"I would've paid to see that event," chuckled Brass. "Anywho, Vincent "Dice" DiCenzo isn't the baby's father so neither he or any of his family have a custodial claim to the infant," Brass said. "I finally get to interview him today and Iris will sit in during our evidence presentation. He lawyered up at the time of being charged with sexual assault and battery to which will be added manslaughter but he doesn't know that yet and I can't wait to see his face when it's upgraded."

"Should be a Kodak moment," Iris agreed.

"Okay, kids, here's the long and short of my findings on Martina. She suffered a fractured skull but it was not a lethal injury. There were numerous bruises and contusions about the face and other parts of the body including three irregular but unique lacerations on the left cheek. X-rays showed old fractures of the collarbone, left wrist and elbow. Cause of death was due to traumatic hemorrhaging secondary to placenta previa but I've deduced from the sonogram pictures provided by Dr. Conklin that the placenta was still intact at the time the victim was in the ambulance and when she arrived at Desert Palm. The previa had to have resulted from the premature labor brought on by the brutality of the double rape. She also had anal and oropharyngeal trauma secondary to that depraved excuse for a human being," Doc Robbins concluded as he finished scanning his notes. He gave the autopsy photos to Iris too look over.

"If I get my way, that clown won't be seeing daylight for a long time and he'll have a bruiser of a cell mate named Bubba," Brass growled literally.

As Iris scanned over the photos she grimaced with a sorrowed look before cocking her head at one set of photos. "Jim?"

"Yeah."

"When you arrested Dice, was he wearing a ring?"

"I think so but I can check right quick with booking for his personal effects inventory sheet."

"Would you please and if they could be specific about the ring?"

"Sure."

Brass borrowed Doc Robbins' desk phone and had a quick conversation with an officer in processing. "Dice had a gold ring with a hexagon-shaped gold center stone worn on the left middle finger."

"Ask them to have the ring sent to Wendy in the lab. I want the ring checked for any blood and tissue embedded in the setting and a sample submitted for DNA with a rush order and digital photos taken. I knew that creep had backhanded her."

Brass conveyed Iris' request. "They'll get it down to her right away."

"Well, on a lighter note, Iris, who's your SA?" asked Doc Robbins with a sly wink.

Iris gulped as she gave the pathologist a roll of her eyes. "Don't tell me this is lab-wide now!"

"Your SA?" asked Brass with a side glance at Iris who kept her gaze fixed on Doc Robbins.

"Jim, you didn't hear? What rock you been under? Iris here got a dozen roses with an anonymous card declaring she had a secret admirer! It's got the usual tongues wagging," Doc Robbins chuckled.

"I'll find out who's the culprit although I'm sure the only intention is for me to have a good day," Iris replied coolly.

Brass glanced at his clock and stifled an oath under his breath as he got to his feet. "Jeez, I gotta go meet with the social worker about when the grandparents get here tomorrow."

"I need to get back up to trace as well," Iris agreed as she got up too.

"Have a fun day, kids," Doc Robbins instructed as turned to resume his report dictation.

As Iris kept up with Brass' broad strides up the hallway, he couldn't resist as he said, "Secret admirer, eh? You got any suspects?"

"Sure, every single guy in the lab's been standing in line to take yours truly out," Iris snorted. "Honestly, not yet but I will get my man."

"I'm sure you will," Brass chuckled dryly.

As they headed up the hallway going by Grissom's office, they heard him call out, "Iris, got a minute?"

Brass followed her in to Grissom's desk as he glanced over his glasses at them as he was on the phone but gestured for them to take a seat. He hung up the phone without a word, stood up to walk to a nearby cabinet that he opened to retrieve what he needed and returned to his desk. Iris thought her eyes were going to pop out of their sockets at what he held. Grissom gave her an enigmatic smile as he handed her the vase of steel gray to lavender colored roses. Another card was attached to a small magnifying glass this time. "Trudy asked me to get these since you weren't available. Did your secret admirer strike again?"

"So it would seem," Iris said with a perplexed expression.

"What's the card say?" asked Brass curiously.

"Allow me," Grissom said as he took the card from Iris. "You will question and wonder why, for that is your nature true; you will seek and ever try, but your answer is in plain view."

"I am so going to see the florist and get to the bottom of this. I'll fingerprint the cards if I have to," Iris grumbled.

"Hey, you're my alibi so I'm off the suspect list," Brass joked with hands up in a surrender posture as Iris merely rolled her eyes at him.

"Iris, your secret admirer has good taste if you're the object of their affection," Grissom insisted.

"Griss, I could do without the subterfuge, just wish they'd tell me who they were," Iris said with a frown.

"I guess they like remaining unknown for now so let 'em have their fun," Brass said.

"Back to the case at hand, so what's next in the Rogers' case?" Grissom asked to refocus them.

"The parents are due here tomorrow to finalize the arrangements to take Martina back to their home town for burial. We'll meet with them with the case worker to make sure the details of their taking baby James home with them as the grandparents are in order. Iris and I are finally going to be able to interrogate Dice Dice baby with his legal counsel to go over charges and his arraignment date," Jim summarized.

"Maybe the parents will gain some measure of closure but at least they have a grandson and therefore an extension of their daughter to return home with," Grissom said hopefully.

"Come on, Iris, we got places to go and people to see," Brass wisecracked as he stood up to depart.

Iris silently took the vase of flowers and the small magnifying glass with the card from Grissom. She shrugged wordlessly at him and he knew her mind was racing to try and figure out who was doing this and why. Brass waited expectantly at the door for her to follow as they continued on. Grissom sat back with his fingers laced behind his head, thinking this should be a routine case for his newest CSI although he had to admit it seemed like Iris had been with them for much longer. She fit well into the chemistry of his team as a solid member who'd never given him even a moment's pause at his decision to accept her transfer from Dallas. Given the fact that she and Brass worked well together, he knew the two would be thorough in the investigation of the case. He slowly eased forward in his chair to go through another case file.

As Jim and Iris got by the trace room, she turned to walk in when Brass took her arm. She looked up at him puzzled. "Jim?"

"Don't let that secret admirer stuff get to you, Iris," Brass tried to encourage.

"Well, I'm sure it's all going to be just good fun when the person owns up to it. At the very least, I'm getting to stop and smell the roses," Iris quipped as she gave him a slight smile. "See you later, gator."

"After while, crocodile," Jim gave the traditional reply before he departed.

That evening, since Grissom had approved her working the next day instead of night shift with the suspect being questioned by Brass, she'd opted to stop by and check on baby James. To her surprise, Jim was already there with the nurse named Jasmine.

"Evening," Iris said pleasantly.

"Hey, Iris, I just dropped by to check on little James here before I went home," Our little man's grip seems stronger than ever," Brass observed proudly.

"He's doing fairly well all considered. His lung capacity is still compromised due to his prematurity. His heart function has been of concern as well, but he's a fighter and fast becoming one of our favorites," Jasmine indicated as she checked on the monitors and IVs in place. "Would you like to hold him?"

"Can we? I mean he's got all those tubes and wires and stuff," asked a concerned Brass.

"You can briefly and I'll show you how. It's good for the baby to have this contact and since you're the closest he has to family I whole-heartedly encourage it," instructed Jasmine as she carefully removed the infant from his NICU crib.

"Iris, you do the honors, I might break him," Brass insisted, afraid to hold the baby.

"No, sir, I get this all the time when I work in our church nursery, so I think you more than earned it. You've done this before albeit a few years. Just like riding a bicycle, you know," Iris refused quietly as Brass reluctantly took a seat in a rocking chair and Jasmine carefully placed the baby in his arms. The baby protested briefly with a mewling cry before Jim's slow rocking quieted him. The infant gazed up at Brass with his dark blue eyes. Brass' craggy features softened with a surprisingly tender lopsided smile as he gazed down at his namesake.

"He's got your eyes," Iris teased.

"He's got your nose," Brass countered.

"He's definitely got your hair," Iris shot back as she patted his bald spot.

"Hey, hey, hey, don't mess with the hair," Brass replied testily, his Jersey accent thick, as Iris only wrinkled her nose in reply.

All too soon Jim had to relinquish baby James back to Jasmine to be placed back in the crib. "Good night, tiger," Jim said to the infant who soon fell asleep.

"Come on, papa, we got a big day tomorrow," Iris tugged on his sleeve.

"Yeah, I know. I just hope it all goes in our little guy's favor," Brass remarked as they headed to the elevators.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Dice was brought into the interrogation room dressed in jail coveralls and in handcuffs accompanied by two deputies. Brass and Iris were already seated as he locked eyes with Brass, a particular stare-down or glare-down Iris couldn't clearly say which being held with Jim who finally won as Dice averted his eyes momentarily as he sat down. A minute later Dice's court-appointed attorney, a well-dressed and attractive African-American woman, joined them as she hurriedly entered the room and nearly fell as one high-heeled foot slipped on the tiled floor. She stumbled as one of the deputies caught her arm and Jim jumped up to be of aid if needed. With her balance assured, she quickly recovered her composure to give everyone present that she was all business.

"Detective Brass, I'm Caprice Stevens and Mr. DiCenzo's legal counsel," she introduced herself, making her voice strong and authoritative in tone.

"A pleasure, Ms. Stephens. This is Investigator Iris King from the crime lab," Jim said smoothly before quick handshakes were exchanged between them and then Iris and Caprice.

"Hey, I'm here, I'm not invisible," Dice leered at his attorney. "And the name's Dice, baby, no need to be formal."

Caprice gave Dice a hooded look before shifting her gaze to Brass. "We're prepared to hear your presentation," she said coolly while Dice continued to check her out from head to toe which she didn't acknowledge.

Iris opened up her case file as Jim took the initiative to address Dice and his attorney.

"Counselor, we have strong evidence that implicates your client in the death of Martina Rogers by his hand," Jim began.

"The bitch died? How tragic! My income's going to suffer!" Dice feigned astonishment but his tone was of pure sarcasm.

Brass muttered under his breath, "If I just had five minutes alone…" He shuffled his paperwork a moment before he continued in an even voice as he could muster. "The autopsy reported her cause of death to be placental abruption precipitated by your client repeatedly sexual assaulting the victim which caused the emergency delivery of her son. Fortunately, the child's condition is relatively stable but there were complications."

"The kid's probably every color of the rainbow," jeered Dice. "Don't look at me as a possible father. Could be any guy in Vegas!"

Brass pointed a warning finger at Dice. "You'd better quit while you're ahead, loser!"

"DNA results for paternity have ruled you out…thankfully," Iris interjected icily as her eyes turned black in anger which Brass noted approvingly.

"I wouldn't've claimed the brat either way," sneered Dice.

"Mr. DiCenzo, please confine your responses to when I advise you to do so," warned Caprice as Dice shrugged indifferently.

"You know, ass-wipe, jail orange looks good on you but prison gray will look even better for say the rest of your life," Brass rumbled angrily.

Dice's response was to give an insolent double flip off of his middle fingers to Brass, who nodded back with an expression of "this ain't over yet, bub."

"What proof do you have that my client sexually assaulted the victim with whom he had a business relationship?" redirected the attorney as Brass muttered angrily under his breath as he felt Iris' knee nudge his under the table.

"Business relationship?" Iris now snorted with raised eyebrows. "Very well, counselor, but I scarcely concur with that label. I performed a sexual assault kit on the victim at the crime scene. Seminal fluid was recovered and later shown to match your client's DNA profile. The victim had noticeable bruising of the inner thighs and external genitalia. Tissue damage consistent with traumatic intercourse was confirmed also by the obstetrician's examination at the hospital prior to the emergency delivery. Not to mention the fact that a fetal sonogram performed in the ambulance showed an intact placenta but the follow-up sonogram done by the obstetrician indicated placental abruption which precipitated the premature emergent delivery of Martina's son. Here are the full medical records from Desert Palm including history and physical, operative and discharge notes, along with the autopsy results."

Iris handed the paperwork to Caprice who perused them quickly as she made her notes on a legal pad. Dice took the opportunity to slowly move his arms down and under the table as if he were stretching briefly beside his attorney. She was engrossed reading the paperwork when she let out a startled yelp and jumped up, the jail guards moved in on Dice as he snickered and pulled him roughly out of his chair and away from his attorney. Brass rose out of his own chair in alarm at the same instance in concert with Iris who shook her head with an incredulous look.

"You got a great honey hole that you could make a lot more at than this gig…interested?" Dice slurred suggestively with a chuckle.

"Miss Stephens?" Iris asked with concern.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," Caprice reassured them before she rounded on Dice as she went to face him as he was held between the guards.

"In spite of your gross behavior, Mr. DiCenzo, I'll continue to represent you for the due and fair process your rights guarantee you. Sit him down, please," Caprice instructed of the guards in an uncompromising manner. Her eyes locked for several moments with Dice's before he leered back at her as she made sure there was a safe distance from her touchy-feely client.

"Three irregular but matching lacerations were found on Martina Rogers left cheek matching a ring your client was wearing at the time of the assault. DNA confirms tissue and blood found in the ring setting to be that of the victim. Your client wears this ring on the third finger of his left hand and the injuries are congruent with a back-hand motion being employed to strike the victim repeatedly. The charge of physical battery will be supported by this as well as photos taken of the victim at the crime scene and at autopsy that are congruent with a severe beating," Iris summarized as she presented the attorney with a sequence of photographs as she'd outlined.

"Look, she's a bitch, a 'ho, they get outta line and you gotta get 'em back in line so I ain't afraid to smack one or do what it takes," Dice divulged coldly while Caprice looked over the photographs.

"Mr. DiCenzo, you're being charged with involuntary manslaughter and secondary charges of sexual assault and battery. I'll meet with you later to apprise you of your arraignment date and defense options. Please keep your comments to yourself until I have the opportunity to discuss this privately with you afterwards," Caprice recommended as Dice stared at the ceiling to show his disinterest. With a heavy sigh, she added, "He can go."

"Take this jerk back to his luxury accommodations," Brass ordered, loving to get the chance to sound snarky. His cell phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket as he deftly removed it to see a text message displayed. A slight frown crinkled his brow for a moment before he closed the phone and pocketed it. Iris was curious but said nothing.

The guards were only too happy to comply and removed Dice from the room as he continued mumbling angrily in Caprice's direction before the door shut.

The young attorney let go a slow exhale, smoothed back her hair, and then resumed her conversation as if nothing had happened which was to her credit Brass thought. "He seems to think he's bulletproof somehow and I know I've got my work cut out for me." Caprice gave them a solemn nod and left the room.

"She's going to have a hard time convincing a jury that her so-called client is a quality citizen," Brass growled sarcastically.

"Down boy, Dice will get his just desserts or your name isn't Jim Brass," Iris replied smoothly. "So when do we meet Martina's parents?"

"As a matter of fact, that was the caseworker for baby James who texted me. Her parents, his grandparents, just got here. It's going to be a beautiful day in the neighborhood, ain't it? Let's get on to phase two." Jim's sarcasm continued unabated.

Brass had requested that Martina's parents and the caseworker meet with him in his office. It would provide a more personal and private setting to talk with the parents he felt. As he and Iris entered his office, there was a tired and drawn looking older couple seated beside the male social worker assigned to baby James. Jim strode in and behind his desk to greet them as he extended his hand toward them. "I'm Detective Jim Brass and this is Investigator Iris King from the crime lab. We've been assigned your daughter's case and we're very sorry for your loss."

The older man accepted Jim's hand in his own. "I'm Jacob Rogers and this is my wife, Abigail."

The caseworker also introduced himself. "I'm Jerome Shaw from the Division of Children and Family Services to oversee the care of your grandson, James Francis Rogers."

"I'd like to thank you for the sensitive way you've handled the…death of our daughter," Jacob said slowly as Abigail pulled a tissue from her purse to wipe at tear-bright eyes.

"It's tragic to lose someone so young, Mr. Rogers, but we have the perpetrator who directly contributed to her passing and rest assured we'll do everything within our power to see that he goes to prison for a long, long time," Brass said reassuringly with upraised hands.

Jacob cleared his throat before bluntly responding. "Our daughter was a whore, no more and no less."

Brass couldn't help a stunned look. "Sir, this was your daughter. I'll give you that her way of supporting herself was not traditional but it is legal here in the state of Nevada."

"Sin is sin, Detective Brass, the law here may turn a blind eye to whoring but it is what it is," Jacob insisted strongly, pulling out a small Bible from his inside his suit jacket. "Our God doesn't approve of a woman selling and trading herself to promote depravity, defiling what should only be between a married man and woman."

"You know your daughter was pregnant at the time she died and her last thoughts were on her son, your grandson. Surely, even in this time of grieving, you can allow the comfort of knowing that you have your grandson to raise and cherish in her memory," Iris pressed to refocus Jacob and Abigail.

"We need to know which of you can remain here in Las Vegas until the baby is strong enough to be discharged into your custody," Jerome also added at this time. "I have the forms here to make official your custody of James Francis Rogers. A family court judge has approved the custodial petition to expedite the process."

"We only came here to arrange for the return of Martina back to Mead to be laid to rest, not to be embroiled with an illegitimate child that bears the name of someone she didn't even know," Jacob said flatly toward Brass' direction.

Iris looked dumbstruck as Brass came back to bat.

"What you mean is you also plan to take your grandson home, right?" Jim asked to clarify. "And I grant you it's unusual she named her child after me but please respect that as part of her wishes and not to be held against your grandson."

Abigail started to reply but an angry glance from her husband caused her to resume her downcast, submissive appearance.

"I speak for myself and Abigail to reiterate we are only here for Martina," Jacob insisted firmly.

"But your grandson…" Jim began to have his bulldog look and tone that Iris knew so well.

"You have to understand that Martina was raised in a Christian home. We had problems when she became a teenager, being rebellious and seeing boys we never approved of. She proudly announced to us that she lost her virginity to some boy she didn't even know. We could see we were losing our precious little girl who was turning into the Whore of Babylon. She left home three years ago and we heard from her sporadically. She ended up here in Sin City which seems appropriate to be where she lost her soul to the evil one. Her child is the spawn of Satan, conceived in sin and born in sin," Jacob retorted angrily and held his Bible to his chest as if a shield. Abigail said nothing but sobbed softly into her already sodden tissue.

"Mr. and Mrs. Rogers, I support your religious beliefs here but it is your grandson whose custody needs to be determined," Jerome interjected while trying to keep all present calm and collected.

"We don't acknowledge him nor will we sign anything binding us to him," Jacob nearly spat the words out.

"Jacob, please, Teenie's…" Abigail was nearly in tears.

"She's dead. She lived how she chose to. The wages of sin are death. The devil's issue is not our concern," Jacob would not be swayed as Abigail's face crumpled and she covered it with another tissue.

Brass would not give up. "Come on be standup here, that baby needs you as his grandparents. You're his family!"

"We cannot accept that product of a sinful union. It's enough that we have to bury our own child. It's a bastard," Jacob maintained as Brass threw up his hands in disgust.

"If you refuse to accept custody of the infant, then these are the forms you must sign to release him to the care of the state. He'll be placed in foster care and eventually adopted into a loving home," Jerome said with emphasis placed on the last two words.

"Mr. and Mrs. Rogers, I'm sorry for your loss and your narrow-mindedness. The God you say you believe in also said "let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these; I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it," Iris declared strongly as Jim thought to himself "go, Iris, go."

"Luke 18:16," Abigail said with hint of approval that caused Jacob to glance at her in surprise.

"Don't twist holy words you obviously don't believe," Jacob retorted angrily at Iris.

"I think the God the rest of us believe in would accept baby James fully and without hesitation," Iris countered with unwavering conviction.

"How dare you blaspheme His word!" Jacob was on the point of wrath and Brass had to regain control of this rapidly deteriorating conversation. Jim saw Grissom had been walking by who stopped outside his door to step in if needed. Brass made a small hand gesture of "back off" that Grissom respected but made sure he remained in earshot.

"Mr. Rogers, are you sure you and your wife won't reconsider?" Jim tried one last time as well as to regain some order.

"Give us those papers now, Mr. Shaw, and show us where to sign," Jacob seized the papers Jerome silently handed over and pointed to little colored adhesive tags denoting where the signatures were to be made. Jacob forcefully signed where needed, handed the pen to Abigail who mutely followed her husband's lead.

"My wife and I are now leaving for the funeral home and immediately for Mead thereafter. We have no desire to stay one more minute in this den of iniquity than necessary. There's NOTHING else to keep us here. You will do us the courtesy of informing us on the outcome of the trial of the man who did this to Martina," Jacob stated heatedly as he took his wife by the arm and abruptly left Brass' office.

"That didn't go the way I thought it would. Well, I can start working on getting a foster home lined up for the poor tyke," Jerome said glumly as he closed his briefcase. "I'll let the hospital know but you and Iris can continue visiting him as much as you like. You're the next best thing to family he has right now."

After Jerome left, Brass leaned back in his chair with a weary sigh and rubbing at aching temples and closed eyes. "That was a great comeback with that Bible quote, by the way, but can this day get any worse? Whatta self-righteous, Bible thumper! Um, no offense, Iris."

"None taken but I thought it appropriate and meant every word of it. I still can't understand why they'd deny their own grandchild and then just walk away," Iris said in consternation.

"If I wasn't on the clock, I could use a belt just about now," Brass considered as he looked down at his lower desk drawer where a bottle of Jack Daniels resided with two glasses for the dispensing of intestinal fortitude after hours.

"I might just join you," Iris mused as Brass gave her a thin smile because he knew she drank very rarely.

A knock at the door interrupted further conversation. They both looked to see Nick had poked his head inside. "Hey, I was looking for Iris actually."

"Come on in," Jim beckoned with a raised hand.

Nick walked in bearing a vase of 12 sterling grey-lavender roses to place beside Iris whose eyes became as big as saucers. A card held by a silver-gray Beanie Baby horse with a magnifying glass he also placed on the desk. Iris' face became bright pink as Nick became concerned. "I'm sorry Iris but Trudy had it at her desk and she needed it to get to you, so I volunteered."

"Aw, its okay, Nickers, just the timing could've been better," Iris reassured him with a small smile.

"I heard you were getting this from a so-called secret admirer who's writing you poetry, right?" Nick drawled in his Texas accent.

"Yeah, dead on, so Jim what's the prose for today?" Iris replied blandly as she handed the envelope to Brass.

Brass shrugged and opened the envelope gingerly to pull out the card. He put on his reading glasses and held out the card a bit so he could read it. "To search for this admirer, you must seek and try; one bides time and prays that fate to be your answer for questions why."

"Sounds like they've got you guessing still, huh?" Nick supposed as he patted Iris on the shoulder.

"So far the game's still afoot but I'll know soon, you have my word on that," Iris agreed.

"No doubt but I'll see you two later tonight at shift," Nick said as he got up to go.

"Later, Nick," Brass replied as he gave Iris an inquisitive look. "Are you ticked off?"

"No but I have to admit to being a bit baffled as to who would feel I warrant this type of effort? I mean if someone wanted to ask me out just go for it," Iris said with an unconscious shift of her chin twice; her trademark for signifying she was in deep thought.

"You're a classy package, Iris, so I guess it makes sense somehow," Brass considered. "Hey, what say we go to visit baby James and do something positive? We'll still have plenty of time before shift tonight."

"Lead on, my dear Captain," Iris intoned solemnly as Brass cracked a grin as they walked out of his office.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

At the Desert Palm NICU, the nurses at the nurses' station were suppressing giggles and chuckles at the scene of the crib that was nearest them. They had all taken a shine to baby James and seen to it that he had been moved to the first incubator crib so they could all check on him going to and from the nurses' station. The news that the baby's grandparents had rejected him had only endeared the infant even more to the nursing staff.

"A booga booga booga boo," Brass grinned down at baby James as he slowly rocked the infant. The baby looked up at Brass with wide blue eyes before a tiny smile rewarded Brass' efforts. "Look at him, Iris, he's smiling!"

"Could be gas pains," Iris remarked with folded arms. Jasmine, who still maintained her stance as baby James' primary nurse, nodded in agreement.

"Huh? That's a smile if ever I saw one. Gas pains, my butt!" Jim grumbled as Iris playfully nudged his arm.

"We tried him with a bottle earlier today and he was able to eat a bit. Would you like to try, Captain Brass?" Jasmine asked as she returned with a bottle.

"Uh, I dunno it's been a real long time since I last did this," Brass replied reluctantly as baby James now was beginning to be restless. He had a collage of memories just then of times he'd held Ellie when she was colicky at night, changing diapers filled with toxic poop that nearly made him puke, feeding her with a bottle where she looked up at him as if he were the sum total of her little universe.

"You can do it," Iris responded in a false accent that was somewhere between French and Spanish, Brass recognizing the phrase attributed to actor Rob Schneider in the movies.

"Here you go. That's it. Hold his head up a little more. There, you're doing this like a pro!" Jasmine encouraged as she helped Brass adjust how he held the baby and then give him the bottle. Iris patted Jim's shoulder supportively with an approving look as he looked prouder by the minute.

Jasmine's face suddenly took on a pensive look as she scanned over the chart she'd brought as she glanced at the baby going aggressively after his bottle much to Jim's delight. Iris caught her change in expression.

"Jasmine has our little guy been okay?" she asked.

"Little James has had some minor episodes of apnea here and there which isn't unusual for a preemie. His heart rate has fluctuated at those times but not to the point of a code blue," Jasmine indicated as Iris also looked over the nursing notes.

"So that means he's gonna be okay, right?" Brass looked up hopefully as baby James sucked contentedly on the bottle.

"He's not out of the woods yet and has a ways to go," Iris said gently.

"Don't matter, he's a tough little hombre," Brass declared as he carefully raised the infant up to burp him after baby James had taken nearly a third of the bottle. Iris held the bottle up with an approving look. Jim patted the baby's back several times before a tiny "urrrp" was heard.

"He better get some shut eye now," Jasmine said as Brass reluctantly handed his namesake back. The nurse carefully laid the infant down and rearranged the tubing and wires of monitors and intravenous fluid support.

"Jasmine, can you and the other nurses keep us updated? I mean we'd like to be kept informed if little James has any rough patches," Iris requested.

"Iris is right. You've got all our contact numbers and we'd really appreciate it," Jim agreed.

"I'll see to it," Jasmine promised.

"Come on, Iris, duty calls," Brass said as they left the NICU.

Inside the elevator, Iris thought of something to ask Brass. "Jim, what do you think about introducing Jasmine to Nick? He's got a thing for nurses and I bet she's single. She's been so helpful with baby James. Nick's between lady loves at the moment."

"That's something you women are always trying to do is fix someone up with somebody sometime somewhere somehow!" Brass said exasperatedly.

"You mean you don't think Nick would like Jasmine?" Iris persisted.

"I'm sure he would. She's an attractive young woman and all. I just think it's an inherent female trait to be constantly matchmaking," Brass declared.

"Well, no one's done that for me thus far," Iris remarked in a dejected fashion.

"What about this secret admirer? It could be someone you want to hook up with," Brass considered.

"Jim, I don't want to just hook with anybody. That's probably part of my problem is I'm choosy or the fact that I won't hop between the sheets," Iris replied candidly.

"It's good to stick to your morals and any guy who tried that on you would have me to answer to," Brass assured her as he gave boxing punches to a phantom opponent.

"My bodyguard," Iris laughed as Jim straightened his suit jacket.

"It would be my honor, milady Iris," he replied gravely with a totally serious expression as the elevator came to the first floor and the doors opened.

Outside the hospital, Iris and Brass were walking along the sidewalk when Iris spied a lone dandelion growing between the cracks. She stopped in mid-stride to reach down and pluck it delicately from where it was rooted. Iris closed her eyes a moment and then blew gently as the gossamer seed-bearing drifted away lazily on the early evening breeze.

"What'd you wish for, Iris?" asked Brass with a cocked eyebrow.

"If I tell you, I'll have to kill you," Iris winked mysteriously.

"Hope it comes true whatever it was," Jim grinned. "Let's get going."

* * * *

At the lab in the break room, Iris found herself fidgeting a little in anticipation of assignments. The Martina Rogers case was now considered closed for all practical purposes pending the arraignment of Dice but the custody of baby James would be the silent footnote of the outcome. The rest of the team listened in amazement as Iris brought them up to speed.

"I can't believe this Abigail could let her husband decide that for both of them about their grandson!" Sara exclaimed with flashing eyes.

"He's old school so it stands to reason his wife would be the submissive type," Nick considered.

"But a religious nut to top it off," Warrick added with a shudder.

"There are still women out there who are totally under a man's thumb. None in this room, though," declared Catherine.

"True but the real victim in all of this is that poor baby," Sara mused quietly. "It sounds like you and Brass have taken quite a shine to the little one."

"Jim's become especially attached and understandably so since he's been going nearly every day to visit his little namesake," Iris concurred.

"Couldn't you just see Brass with spit-up on his suit," Greg laughed before he pantomimed a grim-faced impression of Jim drolly sponging at his shoulder with a napkin before fastidiously straightening his jacket. Greg's theatrical antics were rare anymore and his efforts cracked his teammates up.

As the laughter subsided, Catherine looked pointedly at Iris. "So, you still getting action from your secret admirer?"

Iris' eyebrows shot up a moment. "Yes, every day now."

"You got any idea as to the identity?" asked Sara.

"I debated fingerprinting and getting DNA swabs from every guy here from

Conrad Ecklie to the janitor but for now I'm just letting the suspect have his jollies," Iris replied.

"Don't be so sure it's a he now," Catherine reminded slyly.

"Puhhlllease, don't go there again," Iris shot back as Warrick and Nick high-fived each other in amusement.

"Did I miss something?" Grissom suddenly asked as he entered the room to find the whole team laughing aloud, some to the point of having tears in their eyes, with the exception of Iris who gave him an exasperated look.

Grissom shrugged and began dispensing the assignments Iris found she was tagging along as a back-up with Greg and Sara for a homicide/crime of passion. A man found cheating on his wife and girlfriend, with another man, was stabbed by the wife and shot by the girlfriend. The two women had found out about each other but their mutual anger/jealousy that the victim was involved with a male caused them to form an alliance and extract their revenge by murdering the victim and his new lover. In the melee, the girlfriend was then shot by the jilted wife who had played the girlfriend to a "T". Iris found out that Brass wasn't the detective on this case and thought he probably welcomed the chance to undertake something different. He was as concerned as she was about the welfare of baby James but that didn't offset the responsibilities they each had with respect to work.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

The next morning Sara closed her locker door with a slam that reflected her frustration at the case she and Greg had been sent to. Iris sat next to her friend sympathetically. Nick and Warrick had already left for the day as had Catherine. Greg was out of pocket as he'd gone to the vending machines for a sudden attack of the munchies.

"Iris, I'm sorry that was a waste of your time last night," Sara apologized.

"Not true, Sara. I always like to be on hand if only to watch others in action as I want to improve my techniques. Besides, the crime scene was a holy mess and I didn't mind being extra hands to help canvass the area to free you and Greg up to process the bodies," Iris said matter-of-factly.

A female voice overhead on the lab intercom was heard paging Greg.

"I've seen some interesting homicides but this one ranks up there. I mean this is more than the usual triangle. Man, four people involved all the way around the block. The husband being a closet bisexual and his wife had no inkling about it until she stumbled upon his chat logs and emails when checking their home PC because she suspected he was cheating on her with another woman. Talk about what the AOL!" Sara exclaimed.

"Yeah, some people have strange tastes," Iris agreed.

They both then heard a tenor voice singing "Some Enchanted Evening" as they exchanged questioning looks.

The tenor was Greg still singing as he entered the locker room carrying a pale blue vase holding a dozen of the sterling gray roses in one hand and an envelope attached to a small elegant bejeweled dagger. He went down on one knee to present the vase of flowers to Iris which she took and set on the locker room bench. Placing one hand over his heart with an exaggerated flourish, he bowed his head a moment before opening the envelope and removing the card with utmost care as if it were the most fragile piece of evidence in a case.

"Greg, who put you up to this?" Iris demanded tartly.

He put a finger to his lips as he removed the card to read:

"Believe you are without measure,

One who is my true desire.

And know how great I treasure

Who you are and secretly admire."

"Someone's got the yummies for you, girl," Sara chuckled as she nudged Iris with her elbow.

Iris groaned as a bright pink flush took over her cheeks. She then picked up the dagger to examine it more closely. "Well, I guess it could be used as a glorified letter opener. Good Lord, my list of suspects could be any guy in this place but I promise you if this someone is married -- no way Jose!"

Greg sat next to her as he ran a hand through his spiky hair before he came clean. "I guess it was my turn to bring you something. Trudy was on break and the other receptionist said the delivery person was told to request me to bring this. I just thought I'd make my entrance with some panache."

"I for one miss your theatrics so let that Greg out once in a while! You've kept him cooped up too much since you graduated from lab rat to CSI," Sara complained.

"Well, you know all that happened to me last year but I guess I've gotten too serious at times," Greg admitted before standing up and bowing low to them. "Fear not, gentle ladies, for Sir Greg the Gallant shall ever be at your humble service." With that, Greg left the locker in two bounding leaps.

"More like Sir Greg the Goof," Sara said when her laughter subsided.

"Encourage him, he's got a real funny side and that should peek out more often," Iris smiled. "Hey, see you tonight then?"

"Yeah, I'll help you out with all this," Sara replied as Iris closed her locker door.

"Thanks. My place is starting to look like a flower shop," Iris said with a wan smile.

* * * * *

"Iris, I think this secret admirer of yours knows you pretty well," Nick observed as he checked out the dagger then winced as he found it had a sharp point with the end of his index finger. All the team was in the break room again for case updates and new assignments.

"**He**," Iris said with casual emphasis as she looked Catherine's way, "knows what you all know about me. That's obvious from the beanie baby dog and horse as well as the dagger, flash light and magnifying glass. I'm an open book."

"What happens when the mask comes off and his identity is known?" Warrick wondered as he glanced over the dagger Nick handed him.

"I've turned that over and over in my head, Rick, but to be truthful I don't know," Iris admitted.

"It doesn't matter if he's tall or short, fat or thin, handsome or not?" Catherine asked.

"No, I'm not into looks because what matters to me is what's inside," Iris replied as she indicated her head and then her heart. "Besides, if it's just a matter of asking me out, why all this drama? Not that I'm complaining because I am flattered."

"This guy's taken pains to keep you in the dark until the right moment, I guess, by enlisting our unwitting help," Grissom said from the head of the table as he pointed to himself and then Nick, Warrick and Greg.

Iris nodded in agreement as she tapped at her chin with a forefinger when she felt her cell phone vibrate in her pants pocket. She retrieved it and saw the text message as her eyes widened in shock and her face became pale.

"Iris?" Grissom asked in alarm.

Brass literally exploded through the doorway at the same time, his face looked gray, suit jacket haphazardly slung over one arm as he held his cell phone. "Come on," he said hoarsely to Iris. She seized her backpack without hesitation and went to join him.

"Jim, what the…?" Grissom demanded.

"Baby James coded," Brass answered bluntly.

"Oh my God…get going….keep us informed!" Grissom waved them on.

The team echoed that with a chorus of "we're thinking of you, we'll keep good thoughts going, we'll be there if we can!"

Running down the hall, Jim held Iris' elbow to help her keep up with his frantic pace as Iris quickly said, "We'll go in my Bronco its closer but you drive!" Jim felt her keys pressed into his hand as they rounded the corner to head to the parking lot.

A line of thunderstorms had been forecast on the radio of the Bronco as it sped toward Desert Palm. Lightning lit up the northern night sky faintly in the distance but the storms were still hours away.

* * * * *

Jasmine met them as they entered the NICU; her face telling them what they feared.

"We got here as quickly as we could," Brass said tightly as Iris stood by his side.

"Little James' heart stopped earlier tonight and a code blue was called. We had to shock him three times to get him back. His heart and lungs have been so stressed in spite of our supportive measures. The pediatric cardiologist says there's nothing more we can do and life support will just prolong the inevitable. His heart is failing and it's just a matter of hours now. We thought you'd want to say goodbye while there's time. I'm so sorry." Jasmine hugged Jim first and then Iris.

"What now?" Jim whispered, gripping Iris' hand so tightly she bit her lip.

"Follow me. We have a special room for this situation where the parents can stay with their child. He's never alone, we're seeing to that. No monitors, no wires, no tubes. We've got oxygen mist going and he's been given medication to keep him comfortable," Jasmine replied as they approached a room off from the nurse's station.

Two chairs and a rocking chair were positioned by a now-open crib. Baby James rested inside it, breathing in a slightly labored manner, while his arms and legs flexed spasmodically on occasion in his restless sleep. His pale café-au-lait skin looked translucent.

"You can hold him fully now and rock him if you like, just talk to him, he'll know you're here. You're bonded to him you know. He doesn't know anyone else cares beyond you and we nurses. If you need me, I'll be at the nurse's station." Jasmine then left them alone.

Jim let go a slow exhalation as they approached the crib. Iris didn't hesitate as she leaned into the crib and wrapped the infant in a blanket. Baby James woke up and gazed at her with wide blue eyes set in that wizened face. He didn't cry or fuss as they continued to look at one another. She cuddled him for a few moments before taking Jim by the arm to the rocking chair. After Brass sat down, she placed little James in his arms and took a seat in the chair next to him.

"Just rock him while we talk to him," Iris encouraged softly.

"Okay," Brass said, his voice breaking slightly. "Well, little guy, here we are. Let me tell how things would've been had we the time. Heh, time, such a small word to count our hopes, dreams, breaths, heartbeats, seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks and years by. You would've liked learning to ride a bike and I'd of been there to see you fly down the street the first time without training wheels. Your first little league game where you hit the winning home run, I'd be there in the bleachers cheering you on or that first goal you scored in pee-wee hockey, I'd keep that puck to my dying day. Seeing you graduate high school to go on to college to be who you're supposed to be. You'd of made me proud."

Iris rested her hand on Brass' shoulder as he talked to baby James and to hear what Brass had wanted to do caused her to smile tenderly at him as she squeezed his shoulder.

She said, "My turn now to be there for your first skinned knee from riding that bike to kiss and make it all better; the first window you broke throwing a baseball in the back yard; your first broken heart from the girl who didn't feel the same way; your prom and reminding you how to treat the young lady in your company; seeing you marry the love of your life. You'd of made me proud too."

Brass shot her a look but his face was inscrutable.

"I mean I would've helped out and been your permanent babysitter," Iris clarified quickly.

The baby now had Jim's finger firmly clasped in a tiny hand. "See, Iris, he's still got a grip and it's strong. He's going to make it, he's got to." Brass' voice trailed off into a raspy whisper.

"Maybe he's hanging on just so we can say good-bye," Iris whispered.

"No, you're wrong, he's gonna pull through, he's a fighter," Brass insisted angrily.

"I am hoping for that as strongly as you but it's up to him not us," Iris said neutrally.

Several minutes passed as Brass rocked his little namesake slowly and he and Iris continued to tell the baby about the future. Jim planned to engage Jerome Shaw's help to initiate guardianship. He reminded Iris she would have to keep herself available for babysitting and frequently. He assured the baby it would be expedited, "I know all the right people and I got favors out the wazoo I can call in."

Baby James suddenly looked up at them both then with tiny spit bubbles as he managed a happy smile. He made a series of contented gurgles, yawned slightly, and then closed his eyes. His face slowly relaxed as the little chest rose and fell no more.

"Iris!" Jim stopped rocking and held his ear to the baby's chest. "Do something! Start CPR!"

She kneeled quickly in front of Brass, put her finger to the infant's neck and looked up with a sad shake of her head as she looked up at him with tear-bright eyes. Her voice was ragged in its anguish. "No CPR. It won't make any difference. He's gone, Jim."

"Damn it, Iris, help him!" Jim yelled with a stricken look that cut through her.

"We did and I think he hung on long enough so we could let him go. His spirit was strong but his little body was too frail and just gave out," Iris declared sadly as her hands rested on his knees.

"He's still hanging on even now," Brass' voice faltered as the baby's fingers remained curled around his forefinger. Jim gently removed them as he held the baby close to his heart. His features cracked at that point with a ragged sob. "Iris, I wanted it to be different for him…for me…was that selfish? I felt I had a second chance going and I could do better this time than I did with Ellie."

Iris swerved the other chair opposite Brass as she cradled him to her as he continued to hold the infant. Her arms wrapped around him as her cheek pressed to his. "No, Jim, it wasn't selfish and I wanted the same for him, too. I know did you best where Ellie was concerned from what you've shared here and there. You're still her dad, no matter what, and you could be again, I promise you." She murmured softly into his ear as they grieved together, Jim's anguished sobs occasionally punctuating the stillness in the room.

"Dice is going to pay double, Iris, I swear it!" Brass vowed at last in a thick voice.

"Shush now, hush-a-bye," Iris crooned in a whisper as they gently rocked baby James who was now at peace.

Jasmine looked in on them as fresh tears fell down her cheeks; let them have all the time they needed.

An hour later, a pale and haggard Brass emerged from the room followed by Iris who appeared much the same way. They were both drawn and spent from what had happened. Both had not been prepared for this outcome. They went immediately to the nurse's station. They'd heard thunder intermittently and the windows outside the hospital reflected lightning flashes.

"The social worker's been notified and since James has no guardian, funeral arrangements will be made through the city. I'll let you know the details as soon as they're available," Jasmine told them.

"Call Garden Memorial Funeral Home where arrangements have already been made. Burial will be in Woodlawn Cemetery. Here are the business cards for whom to contact," Brass said tersely as Iris gave him a surprised look. "Sorry, Jasmine, it's been a helluva night."

"No worries, I'll see to it personally," Jasmine promised as she took the cards from him and returned to the nurse's station to make the needed calls.

"You call Gil to let him know what happened and find out if you still have to go out on a case. I'm taking a personal night off myself. Just drive me back so I can get my car, I'd appreciate it," Brass requested wearily as Iris as got out her cell phone. She went to the waiting room to where she got better cell reception while Jim watched her go with a tired expression.

"Here, Detective Brass, figured you needed this," Jasmine said as she handed him a Styrofoam cup of coffee. "It's black but if you need cream and sugar."

"This'll be fine," Jim said gratefully as he gingerly sipped at the hot liquid.

Iris returned some minutes later and to Jim she looked like how he felt. "Grissom knows and I can take you back to the lab. He wants me to rejoin Sara and Greg as soon as possible but warned us to drive carefully as those storms are now rolling through."

"Let me finish my coffee. You want something?" Brass asked Iris as Jasmine nodded.

"Hot chocolate for this chocophile would be heavenly," Iris admitted.

"One hot chocolate coming up," Jasmine smiled.

Fifteen minutes later, they walked outside through the emergency room exit sliding doors where Iris' Bronco was parked in the ER lot. Rain was falling in torrents as lightning continued to flash and thunder rumbled its reply. The wind was gusting and at times the rain looked as if it were blowing sideways. They both looked up at the dark sky as Jim then glanced at his watch.

"We don't have an umbrella, Jim," Iris observed glumly.

"We can't wait for it to stop raining so we'll just have to make a mad dash for it," Brass replied simply.

"You're still driving so ready to run when you say so," Iris assured him.

"One, two, three, GO!" Brass cried as he tried to cover them as best he could with his suit jacket as they splashed through puddles hurrying to the Bronco. They parted ways as Iris rushed to the passenger's side while Brass fumbled with the keys as he quickly became soaked to the skin. Cursing under his breath he finally got the key in the driver's door and jumped in to then lean over the bucket seat to get the passenger side open. Iris climbed in and shut her door as lightning hit nearby and caused her to jump in alarm.

"You look like a bedraggled kitten," Brass chuckled as she spluttered from the rain she'd swallowed.

"You don't look any better, buster!" Iris shot back. "Reach behind you. I think I've got a towel back there somewhere. At least we can dry off a bit."

Brass turned on the dome light and sure enough a towel was folded neatly in the back seat which he grabbed and offered to Iris first. She toweled of her hair and face and patted her arms dry before handing the towel back to Brass. He dried himself off as well as he could before tossing the towel behind his seat.

"Let's see if we can get an update on the weather," Brass said as he switched on the radio. As if on cue, they heard the radio DJ announce that Clark County was under a severe thunderstorm warning as the storm complex was mushrooming over Vegas as he spoke. The storms were expected to continue for the next hour at least as they rumbled through. Police were advising that if you didn't have to drive, don't, due to flash flooding in low-lying parts of Vegas.

Iris reached behind her seat to turn on a Coleman battery-powered lamp that she kept on the lowest setting. It gave just enough illumination for them to see each other as well as the radio display since the nearest parking lot light was out and their part of the parking lot was dark as pitch outside. "Great, looks like we're not going anywhere for a while. I keep this lamp for camping and road hazard emergencies. Now, we're all cozy."

"We can keep the radio on for a bit I suppose then when it lessens up we'll be on our way," Brass agreed as he looked at the windshield. "Man, look at it come down!"

"Oh, I don't mind it at all, Jim. I love it when it storms," Iris commented as she saw another lightning flash.

"Really, how come?" Brass' curiosity was piqued.

"It's a cleansing event and to me it goes through your soul. The sounds and the smells of it are kind of magical in a way. Here, listen for how your body vibrates from the thunder," Iris indicated as another lightning flash rent the sky asunder and they waited for the thunderous reply. She knelt next to him because the bucket seats didn't permit her to get closer and placed her hand on his chest to demonstrate as a booming thunderclap seemed to break right over their heads. The rumbling vibration went through them just as she'd said.

Iris' hand continued to rest on Jim's chest that was moist from his rain-soaked shirt. He noted it too and looked at her curiously before casually saying, "You're right, I never looked at it that way so I guess I can have a new appreciation for the next storm we're in."

She said nothing for a moment and then pulled her glasses off. Her damp hair fell in tendrils that curled to frame her face in a dark halo. Iris moved her face slowly up toward his as they shared a long, searching look. Her hand reached up to slowly run velvet-soft fingers down the left side of his face while her lips moved down the other side as they gently traced down to his jaw. She made a soft sighing sound while Brass sat stock still, unsure of what was happening or going to happen next for that matter.

"Uh, Iris, what're you doing?"

"Messing around."

"Look, I don't think this is such a good idea."

"Why?"

"Look, we're both upset and tired about what happened earlier. Let's go ahead and start back to the lab."

"It's still raining too hard to drive there safely. You're right I'm as upset as you. I just was looking for a little comforting still. I'm sorry. It probably looks like I was making a play for you. I was out of line and clumsy about trying to show affection toward a good friend."

The plaintive note in her voice went through Brass like a knife. He knew she wasn't being manipulative and it had been a bad night for both of them as they keenly felt the loss of baby James. Jim knew Iris was being transparent in her honesty. Iris started to pull away but Brass engulfed in his arms. She looked up at him with a quizzical expression.

"You stay put. Where you're at is fine by me," Brass told her firmly. Iris liked his closeness and snuggled into his neck. The platonic contact was affirmed and agreed upon unspoken while the radio played in the background, each silently telling themselves that the body heat would help dry their clothes better.

Another song started to play as they just quietly held each other. The DJ mentioned, "Here's Faith Hill's song, "Just As I am."

"Baby, don't turn out the light  
I wanna see you look at me  
Whisper only truth tonight  
Not just promises and empty fantasies

I don't need a bed of roses  
'Cause roses wither away  
All I really need is honesty  
From someone with a strong heart  
A gentle hand  
Who'll take me as I am

Baby, I need for you to know  
Just exactly how I feel  
Fiery passions come and go  
I'd trade a million pretty words  
For one touch that is real

I don't need a bed of roses  
'Cause roses wither away  
All I really need is honesty  
From someone with a strong heart  
A gentle hand  
Who'll take me as I am

I don't need a bed of roses  
'Cause roses wither away  
All I really need is honesty  
From someone with a strong heart  
A gentle hand  
Who'll take me as I am, oh yeah

From someone with a strong heart  
A gentle hand  
Who'll take me as I am."

As the song played, Iris stirred against his shoulder as she adjusted her position and Brass grunted when her weight shifted so he moved himself to stretch a bit. The combination caused Iris to rise in surprise so that they found themselves looking each other directly in the eye. Iris found her head tilted just so as they continued to stare at each other before her eyes slowly shut and her lips pressed to Jim's.

Brass found he was gripping her arms tighter while the tentative kiss continued as their lips gently parted and a little tongue action ensued. He felt her warm breath when her mouth opened more for him as a hungrier kiss was pursued.

Finally, he had to stop this. "Iris, this is…"

"Not very comfortable…you're right…come on," Iris finished what she thought he meant as she took him by the hand with her into the back seat. Brass found himself pulled down with her as she initiated another kiss that he was amazed to find he was beginning to avidly return.

"Too bad this seat doesn't fold down," Brass joked weakly.

Iris gave him a sly smile but said nothing as she reached behind him and the seat folded back to make the equivalent of between a twin and full-size bed. He looked down into coquettish brown eyes as Iris replied, "One of the reasons I got this one was because I like to camp sometimes and this saves having a trailer."

"Convenient. Look at the windows getting fogged up!" Jim said as he started to raise himself up and hopefully stop what was happening but Iris held him near.

"Do you really want us to leave? It's still storming outside but we're better off here inside don't you think?" Iris whispered coaxingly against his cheek.

"Um, this could go farther than we mean for it to, Iris. I'm not made of stone, you know!" Brass said hoarsely.

In his mind, Jim suddenly had a vision straight out of a vintage Looney Tunes cartoon where on his shoulder an angel who looked just like his parish priest back in Newark appeared and the same version as a devil on the other. Even the reedy, shrill voice was in the same Irish accent of Father Sean O'Farrell. The angel and the devil each tried to be the victor in persuading Jim in going for it or putting up an immediate stop sign. Each was very convincing in their argument until Brass mentally told them to both take a hike as he had a handle on the situation. His focus returned to the unique situation at before him.

"I'm game," she replied huskily as he was pulled in for yet another probing kiss and this time he gave in fully and his own last thought was _"I'm so gonna regret this." _

The storm with its torrential rain, blazing lightening and deafening thunder continued for the next hour as the windows of the Bronco were fogged over to the point one couldn't see in and on occasion the back end of it rocked gently.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The rain had finally quit as night supervisor Stewart "Mac" McHenry at the LVPD jail took a smoke break outside the building. Brass saw him as he walked up to the entrance.

"Hey, Mac, how goes your night?" Brass asked pleasantly.

"Quiet enough. What brings you here this time of night or I should say morning?" replied Mac.

"You've got a prisoner I'm here to pay a visit to," Jim replied casually.

"Oh? Who?" Mac's curiosity was genuine.

"Dice DiCenzo. The baby of the victim didn't make it either. He died a couple of hours ago at Desert Palm," Brass said bluntly.

"Hell, Jim, that's bad news," Mac replied sadly. "Sure, you can see him. I'll bring him myself to one of the interview rooms. This talk sounds like it needs to be private. I can arrange for the video camera and intercom to take a break."

Mac took a last deep inhale on his cigarette as he let the smoke stream out with a strong exhale. He then crushed it out in the ashtray

"Thanks, Mac, I owe you," Jim said gratefully.

Dice was rubbing sleepily at his eyes with cuffed hands when he shuffled into the interview room accompanied by Mac. He saw Brass sitting at the table and stopped in his tracks. Dice glared at the detective who returned the same stone-faced stare before turning his head toward Mac.

"You get me up in the middle of a good wet dream with Pamela Sue Anderson for this?" Dice snarled contemptuously at Brass who benignly raised his eyebrows.

"Siddown, slime, glad to be the source of your inconvenience," Brass growled back with a fixed smile as Mac forced Dice into a chair across from him.

"This is bullsh…," Dice started to say when Brass slammed the table forcefully with both hands as he exploded out of his chair and literally seemed to tower over Dice who reared back somewhat in surprise.

"You wanna know what would cause me to come here at this hour on a night like this to look up a piece of crap like you? Well, I bring tidings, you mother…" Jim rasped angrily.

"I want my lawyer here if you've got anything to say to me, you're a witness," Dice interrupted shrilly as he looked at Mac for support.

"I didn't hear a thing," Mac said evenly while casually resting a hand on his service revolver.

"You better not lay a hand on me, police brutality, I'll see you lose your shield, I got rights!" Dice said with a panicked squeal.

Brass lost what little temper he had left as he kicked his chair away, rounded the table and grabbed Dice by the front of his coveralls and pushed him forcefully back to the wall with the back of Dice's head thumping on the unyielding surface.

"Get this, you punk, Martina's baby died tonight due to complications. That makes two counts of manslaughter you'll be charged with you son of a bitch! I'll be there in that courtroom for your trial that your rights guarantee but, as God is my witness, you're going away for life without parole. It'll all be fair and square under our legal system, don't you worry. Remember, pretty boy, that there are those in prison who don't cotton to baby killers. Maybe one of 'em will spare the taxpayers years of paying for your prison stay and just ice your ass, you bastard. That poor kid and his mom never stood a chance, thanks to you and you alone!" Brass roared as Dice cringed but had nowhere to go. Jim's anger surged as he knocked Dice three more times into the wall in quick succession as his grip on Dice's coveralls was sure.

Dice looked at Mac in appeal and abject fear and spoke in a whimpering squeak. "He's nuts! Get him off me! Take me back to my cell!"

"Jim, stop! This loser's not worth charges," Mac intervened. "Dice here will be all cooperative too because what happened here stays here and goes no further, right? Because Dice, I know people in prison both guard and convict who will keep me updated should you opt to sing a different tune."

Brass began to slowly release his hold on Dice as Mac's promise sank in. The adrenalin surge was beginning to wear off and he now felt tired, so tired. He sank wearily into a chair and rubbed at his neck.

"Is that a threat?" Dice asked hoarsely.

"No, a fact," Mac replied. "So is it a deal?"

Dice nodded yes as Mac buzzed the intercom on the wall to request a guard to come and take the prisoner back to his cell.

When Dice had been escorted out, Mac took a chair across from Brass. "Don't sweat it, Jim, he won't talk. I scared the pee out of him I'm sure but it's true that I'll keep tabs on him in the slammer. You gonna be okay?"

"Who knows, maybe one day," Brass sighed. "I'm headed home. Tonight's more of what can man do to his fellow man."


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

Two days later and Grissom was still trying to figure things out. Iris and Jim had been delayed by the thunderstorm in returning to the lab so Brass could get his car. Iris had arrived to help Sara and Greg in the trace room looking like Detective Columbo with her clothes all wrinkled and had a flushed appearance. That immediately caused both Sara and Greg to ask if she felt okay and she'd assured them all was well and that her clothes had gotten so wet. Jim hadn't surfaced until that night to announce to the team that he'd spent the day making funeral arrangements for baby James and all were invited to a graveside service in Woodlawn Cemetery.

The whole team had joined Brass the next morning for the solemn ceremony as the infant was laid to rest. Also present were the doctors and nurses who had cared for the child at Desert Palm including Jasmine and Dr. Conklin. Jerome Shaw had also arrived and had informed Brass that Abigail Rogers had called without her husband's knowledge to express her gratitude for what was being done for her grandson. Too little, too late Brass had wanted to reply but held his piece. Charles and Neecie Phillips had also come to pay their respects since Brass had updated the couple about what had happened with Martina's parents. They told Jim that had they been young, they would have considered taking baby James to raise themselves.

Iris watched Jim who took the opportunity to make an introduction she had debated him on. Brass took Jasmine by the arm as he beckoned to Nick who promptly joined them. "Nick, I'd like to meet Jasmine…crap, I never got your last name!"

Jasmine smiled at the detective, "It's Portokalis. My grandparents immigrated here from Crete."

That explained her slightly olive coloring, long dark curling hair that flowed down her back and large dark brown eyes that radiated intelligence and warmth Brass thought.

"Jasmine, this is Nick Stokes who works in the crime lab as a CSI with Iris and who's well-known to have a fatal fondness for nurses," Brass completed the introduction.

"Uh, Brass man…," Nick stammered briefly as he found himself lost in her dark eyes.

"No worries, Captain Brass, we'll get along," Jasmine smiled again at Nick who now appeared to be totally captivated.

Brass thought he saw Iris give him a nod of approval but it was so fleeting he couldn't be sure.

Grissom, being his ever-observant self, found it surprising though that Iris chose to stand next to Nick, Warrick and Catherine during the eulogy given by an LVPD chaplain while Sara and Grissom were beside Jim. Brass had asked Grissom, Nick, Warrick and Greg to act as pallbearers for the tiny white casket that rested on the bier. The gravesite was located close to a nearby pond and the area made for an idyllic scene. Grissom still pondered over why Brass and Iris wouldn't be standing next to each other, given they'd worked so closely on the case. Neither had volunteered any information about it so he opted to let it go but his curiosity persisted.

Jim had paid for the funeral expenses but Iris had insisted on picking the headstone for the grave and paying for it herself. She'd chosen an angel with outstretched arms to guard over the resting place and inscribed on the stone was "James Francis Rogers, cherished son," and the dates of birth and death. All this had transpired over cell phone calls back and forth. They hadn't seen each other since returning to the lab that stormy night until the morning of the funeral today.

At the end of the funeral, after each person had walked to drop in a white rose into the grave, Brass accepted the individual expressions of condolences from the CSI team with hugs from Catherine and handshakes from Nick, Greg and Warrick. Iris had briefly hugged him without saying anything as she promptly returned to stand by Catherine. Charles and Neecie exchanged handshakes with him before they left to return to their car. Sara and Grissom came last to see Jim.

"We know you had the best intentions, Jim. Iris told us you'd wanted to take custody of little James. It shows what we all know already – what a big heart you've got and you're not afraid to care," Grissom affirmed as he shook hands with his best friend with an additional squeeze on his shoulder in support.

"Foster care is an option but you had the better plan and I wish it could've been," Sara agreed as she kissed Brass softly on the cheek.

"Thanks. You're all being here means a lot. See you tonight," Brass told them as he remained at the gravesite while he watched them leave. Iris only made a small wave without eye contact in his direction before she left in her Bronco. He waited until the cemetery workers had finished the burial, and then wearily crouched by the stone angel with its fixed benign smile. He ran a hand over the small mound of earth which would soon be covered later by wreaths and garlands of flowers. "Sleep well, tiger, sleep well. I wanted the best for you…son." Brass stood up and brushed his hands off and headed to his car. The hole in the ground didn't match the one in his heart that felt like the Grand Canyon.

* * * * *

Iris drove back to the cemetery. It was early evening and the sky was streaked with brilliant swaths of caramel that was giving way to the approaching calmer blue-violet of dusk. High wispy clouds drifted slowly with the mild breeze Iris felt as she got out of the Bronco. A rain shower had passed by earlier, leaving everything with a glistening sparkle. The air felt cool and smelled clean with its fresh scent. She'd called ahead to make she had permission as Cyrano and Durante jumped out. Iris walked over to the headstone of baby James to reflect a while. The dogs followed calmly; their obedience and security training ensured they would be no problem in a cemetery. Iris gazed at the headstone angel's beatific expression and found it incongruent with the raindrops that still tracked down its cheeks, false teardrops on a thing that could never feel what she now felt. She leaned forward and brushed the droplets away abruptly. As the sky was darkening above, so was her mood inside.

Her gaze now went to the small pond by the gravesite. The scene was the epitome of peace and calm. The light breeze caused gentle ripples on the pond's surface as water lily pads danced lazily. A pair of mallard ducks floated tranquilly on the far side of the pond as she heard their soft quacks of contentment. Hidden frogs in the small cattails that grew along the pond's periphery held a concert of low and high pitched croaks. The nearby bank was made of a bed of stones of varying sizes and colors. Perfect, Iris thought, as she suddenly strode toward it.

Iris looked up toward the sky with a glare, this serene portrait wasn't right. It didn't settle the internal maelstrom of emotions she'd been carrying for days now. She'd felt pregnant with it; well, it was time to give birth.

"Why?!!! Iris suddenly cried. "Why'd you take him? He would've been looked after, cared for, he was loved and wanted by Jim and I would've helped! You brought him out of horrible circumstances then flip he's gone just like that! It's not right."

The sky remained silent; no audible answer, not that she expected one; any answer or a sign as she waited but nothing. Her embarrassment with what happened with Jim in the Bronco the other night; pent-up feelings for the loss of baby James; the unrequited desire of wanting to be someone for somebody, even daring to still hope for a spouse and family, boiled over finally and exploded.

She reached down to grab a stone and fling forcefully into the pond, immediately causing disruption as the loud splash drove the ducks into a panicked flight to exit the pond. She reached down for another and another stone to throw with everything she had. Each subsequent splash and interwoven ripples made the surface of the pond one of turmoil. Other smaller splashes had occurred as the frogs dove in fright to seek safety underwater. As each stone was cast, a dry sob accompanied it.

"Take this away, I can't carry this alone," she pleaded to the still-silent sky above.

With the next stone, the biggest yet, she pulled her arm back farthest and threw it with the most force she could muster. The forward motion caused her to fall hard and slide on her knees where she stayed as the stone went nearly to the opposite bank before hitting the water with the greatest splash. Her breath came in hoarse gasps as she looked at her reddened, soon to be bruised palms and skinned up knees. Bad idea on wearing the shorts, she mused bitterly. Her fingers were grimy from the rain-soaked earth. She sat back and drew her knees up to her chest and pressed her face to them. Her shoulders began to shake as a quiet moan rose up from the depths of her soul. The sound of her dry weeping caused the bloodhounds to make low mournful howls that seemed to amplify her grief, frustration, anger, and loneliness. No one was here to see. No one was here to comfort her one-on-one. No one but Jim Brass would do and that revelation shook her to the bone.

The quote from "Forrest Gump" of "I guess sometimes there aren't enough rocks" came to mind as she rocked back and forth miserably.

Cryano whined softly and padded over to nose her ear. Durante followed and snorted, his way of always voicing his unhappiness, as he seized a shirt sleeve in his teeth and firmly tugged. Their insistence finally moved Iris to gently push them away as she slowly stood up.

"I appreciate your efforts, guys, sorry you saw that little pity party," Iris said raggedly with faint sniffles as she scratched each dog behind the ears to reassure them. "Let's go home."

After the dogs hopped back into the Bronco, Iris looked in the side mirror and saw a weary face with mud streaks but no tear tracks. Even after this, she couldn't shed a single tear. She cleaned her face off with wet wipes and her glasses with a wadded up napkin in the console that she flung back with a grunt of frustration. Iris felt empty inside as if her heart was a sand sculpture where angry winds were eroding it away. A long shower at home might help the most even if it was briefly. The door closed on the Bronco and it started to slowly drive away but not before Iris looked at the dark gray angel keeping vigilance over baby James.

"Semper fi," Iris whispered softly while her thoughts also dwelt on a certain captain with whom she'd shared strong support that was yet another facet of their friendship during this emotionally draining case.

* * * * *

Later that evening, Brass stopped by the lab locker area on his way out to a crime scene dispatch had just called in. All of Grissom's team were present and in the process of getting ready to go in to the break room to get assignments.

"Hey, gang," Brass said amiably as he casually rested one arm on the door frame.

"Brass man, what's up?" Warrick asked as he put on his crime scene vest.

"Figured I'd give you a quick howdy on my way out because whoever joins me on this case is in for a whopper, literally. All I'll say is, this one carries weight," Brass grinned with his familiar snarky air.

"Does that mean it can't wait? Get it, W-A-I-T not W-E-I-G-H-T?" Greg said deadpan as Nick groaned and threw a towel at him.

"Keep your day job, junior," Warrick said ruefully.

"Sir Greg the Goof!" Sara cautioned.

"He's all yours, Brass, please take him!" Catherine rolled her eyes.

Iris remained mute as she checked through her kit, her eyes never rose to meet Jim's but she only gave him another noncommittal wave of farewell. Brass' visage was sorrowed for a fleeting instant as he turned abruptly on his heel and left. His expression and rapid exit caused the rest of the team to exchange surprised looks and silent acknowledgement that the tension had been palpable between Iris and Brass.

Brass walked angrily down the hall, swearing a blue streak under his breath, and then turning to stop in the men's room before he left. He glanced in the mirror and checked his neck carefully. Yes, his shirt collar came up just enough to cover the half-dollar sized reddish-purple mark. Damn, he wondered, how long had it been since he last got such a dynamite hickey. Iris had been like a vampire going at his neck but it had felt so great at the same time. He imagined he could still feel her teeth nipping in conjunction with the Hoover-like vacuum suction she was skillfully employing with a deliciously slurpy sound to show she was enjoying what she was up to. Brass thought he ought to go right back to the locker room but his pride rose up instead. He felt conflicted and took a long look at himself in the mirror candidly as he told himself, "_Jim, let it go, just let it go. You have to get along with her and keep it friendly but professional. Don't go back there hot-headed, just let cooler heads prevail."_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

And in the break room as assignments were passed out, Grissom's pick for Iris just happened to be the case that Brass was covering. She kept a neutral expression and casually took the information sheet Grissom handed her. The team left to go to their respective cases and Grissom hoped for a quiet night out in the field for his team. As he settled in his office, however, Grissom found himself on the receiving end of a series of cell phone calls or text messages from everyone on the team about the sudden change in climate in the friendship between Jim and Iris.

Grissom sighed after answering the last text message. Well, too late now to rearrange the assignments nor should he have to. Iris and Jim were totally professional about their jobs and Grissom had no worries about either of them conducting themselves otherwise. Whatever was causing the wrinkles between them, he strongly hoped the two would iron them out.

* * * * *

Brass was nearly done talking to the witnesses at the casino buffet. His notes finished, he was waiting for whatever CSI Grissom would be sending along. His joke to the CSI team had been spot on he'd determined. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Iris standing there. They faced each other for a few uncomfortable moments before Brass spoke up.

"Uh, hey, Iris."

"Good evening, Detective Brass."

"**You're **wanting to be formal, especially after…the other night?"

"Grissom sent me not knowing about the "especially after", okay, which no one knows about either! Can we just get on with this?"

"Sure, sure, no problemo. Inside slumped on a table is the body of an enormous patron who's literally taken the all-you-can-eat approach to a new level. Per the witnesses, he'd been stuffing his face continually for several hours but was belligerent to the staff and other patrons throughout his eat-a-thon. Near closing time he suddenly lurches back and starts puking all over the place, starts foaming at the mouth, screaming he's been poisoned and then goes unconscious. The manager called 911 right away but when the paramedics got here the guy'd already pegged out and attempted CPR was fruitless. Because the death looks suspicious, we were called in. You know they say gluttony's one of the seven deadlies," Brass summarized and all this with a straight face but his mouth was doing its best not to quirk into a grin.

Iris was nonplussed by Brass' animated description of the victim. "Has David been out to release the body?"

His near-smile vanished as he struggled not to lose his temper.

"Yeah, he should be back in any minute. This one's all yours so have at it!" Brass said tightly through clenched teeth as he strode away.

Iris' lip quivered for only a moment before she resolutely set her kit by the body to process the scene. Whether she was sad or angry or all the above she couldn't say accurately.

* * * * *

The next morning Grissom was reading over a new entomology magazine that Sara had surprised him with a subscription to and he was particularly enjoying an article on the Madagascar cockroaches he was partial to. Things were finally settling down he thought as Iris had not received anything in over two days from her "secret admirer". She had been subdued ever since but he trusted her mood would improve concurrent to that.

A shadow suddenly fell across his desk as he looked up to see a harried looking Brass. Grissom laid his periodical down on the desk and pulled off his reading glasses to give Brass his full attention.

"Jim?"

"Got a minute?"

"Of course."

"Gil, it's like this…"

* * * * *

"Who got that for you?!! Was it a secret admirer?" Sara was viewing a new necklace that Catherine was sporting.

Catherine's eyes sparkled as they moved in Warrick's direction as she replied, "Sort of."

Sara's own eyes went wide as she nodded without commenting further.

"Say, where's Iris, she's never late for a shift?" drawled Nick as he noted her absence.

"She's here 'cause I saw her Bronco in the parking lot when I got here," Greg confirmed absently as he leafed through a magazine.

"Is it me or has she been real quiet here lately," Warrick remarked.

"It's been a bit of a rough for her. Think about it, I mean a tough case with the death of a mother and then her child. You can't tell me that she and Brass weren't more attached to the baby than they admitted. The secret admirer series stopped without any clue as to the identity of who did it and what the true motive was. She'll bounce back mark my word," Catherine declared.

"It hasn't been any easier on the Brass man," Nick said a bit more defensively than he meant to.

"True and to say things are strained between those two is an understatement," Sara agreed sadly as the rest of the team concurred with their own nods.

Iris shut her locker day breathlessly and then was trotting up the hall as she hurried to get to the break room before Grissom got there with assignments. She was never late and lambasted herself for tardiness. She was going by Grissom's office when she heard him call out.

"Iris, may I see you a moment, please?"

She skidded to a halt and did an about face to head back to his office, finding a growing reluctance with each step that she couldn't explain. Sighing inwardly, she poked her head inside the open door. "Yo."

"Come in and take a seat," Grissom said gravely.

She did so and they faced each other a moment as Grissom cleared his throat before speaking. "You haven't been yourself for a few days and neither has Jim. We're all concerned on the team about you both, but I have a slightly more vested interest since Jim's my best friend while you're one too. So I'm speaking as a friend not supervisor here, but does this have anything do to with your secret admirer event?"

Iris startled at hearing this and her eyes dropped a moment before she met his frank gaze again. "No, it doesn't. Something happened but its personal and I need time to get it sorted out with Jim."

"I wish I could grant you that, Iris, but you two need to get this worked out and tonight before I'll give you an assignment. You can't elaborate as to the cause of this rift but everyone sees the stress it's resulting in. It's impacting Jim more than anyone knows and I hate seeing him like this and it's taken a toll on you too."

"Please, Griss, I promise to meet with Jim and this will get resolved."

"No, this is what I've determined will be the course of action. Jim's waiting for you in an interview room right now at my request. You're to go directly there and hash this issue out. I don't want to see you again until it's been confirmed you've both resolved this in a satisfactory fashion."

"Grissom, you have my assurance we can attend to this away from the lab."

"Sorry, Iris, I overrule you on this and you'll go now. That's a direct order from your supervisor now and, no, it's not an abuse of authority but it's my form of intervention to not let this fester any longer between you. There's enough distance between you already and it's going to worsen unless you both sit down and discuss this."

"Okay, I'll go now," Iris said softly but still stinging a bit from Grissom's request.

"Iris, I know you, this isn't a rebuke or reprimand although it might seem that way. I can't stand by and see the friendship between two persons I value be stressed like this. You two need to get this fence mended and now as opposed to later," Grissom told her candidly.

"I'm on my way then so which room?" Iris asked quietly.

"He's in room number four, the last one and with it being on the end you two will have the most privacy," Grissom replied.

"Room four, got it," Iris said meekly as she got up to leave.

Grissom rose up out of his seat to walk her to the door as he said optimistically, "Things have a way of sorting out you're always telling me."

"True, Griss, let me go practice what I preach," Iris said with a faint smile as she headed down the hall.

* * * * *

Brass was trying to find a neutral pose and sat with his hands clasped on the table, his mind formulating what to say and how to say it and he trashed every version of what he'd come up with so far. He made sure the bottled waters he brought were cold should this discussion go long. The door to the interview room opened slowly as Iris came in and their eyes met. It'd be their first meeting since the funeral.

"Hey, Iris, this is Gil's idea, you know," Brass said a bit hastily and feeling it was suddenly warm in the room.

"Well, it's not like we've been beating the door down to try and get past this," Iris said neutrally as she sat across from him and rested her chin in her hands. This lasted about 10 seconds when she suddenly scooted her chair back and the grating sound on the floor was like fingernails on a blackboard to Brass as his face grimaced slightly.

"Jim, I feel like such an ass about the other night when we lost baby James and then I for lack of better words accosted you in my Bronco," Iris began miserably.

"Iris, its okay…" Jim started to say.

"Stop! No, it's not! Let me get this out in the open and out of my system once and for all," Iris interrupted.

"Okay," Brass said amiably with upraised hands.

"I don't know what's gotten into me. I confess it could've been hormones the other night to make me get on you like white on rice and my emotions were off kilter with losing little James. Ever since I can't look at you without remembering my poor conduct and my defense has been my best offense by just avoiding you or interacting as little as possible with you. That's not fair to you and I don't treat a close friend, a good friend like that," Iris continued as she gripped her white-knuckled hands on the top of her chair for support as her knees felt like they were going to buckle.

"Look it, I do understand, Iris, better than you think. It was two of us there and I wasn't catatonic as I recall," Brass said carefully. "I mean it takes two to tango as they say."

He watched Iris chew at her lip and wearily close her eyes a moment. "Just hear me out, okay."

"You got the floor," Brass said quietly.

"I can't begin to say how sorry I am, Jim. You've been the fall guy for my emotional rollercoaster these last few days. You heard my comment in the break room to Catherine the night we went on the Rogers case that my love life's nil at best, right?" Iris asked bluntly.

"Yeah, so?" Brass replied mildly with an expression of interest.

"Here goes, strap your safety belt on," Iris warned as she let a cleansing breath go for what she was about reveal.

"When all of this secret admirer stuff started, I was surprised and flattered more than I let on. Donaldson's earlier pseudo-request for a date to go nude skydiving seemed sick but genuine. I'd started to think what could it hurt and then had a check in my heart. I couldn't do it. I don't hate Donaldson but I don't care for his player-player reputation. I'm sure he was looking at making me another notch in his bedpost. Were I to be in the altogether with some guy then that's going to have some meaning," she stopped so she could take a drink of water which she gratefully raised Jim's way as a silent toast.

Brass took the chance to interject his thoughts at this point. "Iris, I'd be the last person to doubt your moral fiber on something like this."

"Hang on, we ain't done yet so act two as the curtain goes up," Iris revealed. "I've never gotten flowers in my life and here's someone all of a sudden who just starts bestowing them right and left. He did his homework too in paying attention to one of my favorite movies that I'd mentioned to Catherine and Sara that first night. My list of suspects was the guys on the team because they all brought the flowers, poems, and little gifts. You know I even went so far as to dust them for fingerprints at home and then run them here at the lab through AFIS! Of course the prints did turn out to be the guys and yours but since you'd all handled the cards that stood to reason."

She stopped for a moment with a bitter laugh.

Jim's eyebrows shot up as his mouth dropped open slightly but Iris wasn't finished by a long shot yet.

"How pathetic does that make me sound? I'm trying to be gracious initially but as this went on I actually started to hope the motives were genuine. Each time I got the roses, I'd go to the florist to ask who the source was but they were sworn to secrecy. The buyer paid with cash and tipped very generously on top of that. I'm so bummed that my efforts were coming up goose eggs!" The volume of her tone was rising which showed Jim truly how frustrated she'd become that it now was becoming borderline angry. She now began to pace back and forth like a caged big cat.

"I'm sure he meant well," Brass said softly.

"Maybe," Iris considered but then the dam broke for her. "Jim, it has to be Donaldson and he put the guys on the team up to it. He's a silver-tongued devil and could charm anyone. He probably said, oh it's to help me get a date with the ice queen. Donaldson enlisted their help on the grounds of good intentions. I can see the guys feeling they're getting to play Cupid and I don't doubt they wanted something good to happen. So Donaldson could say she needs a person of interest so who better than me with the goal of getting into my pants. I hope he had a good laugh."

As she walked angrily by, Brass tried to reach for her arm but she was so steamed she failed to see it as he said in a low voice, "It was me."

Iris was on a roll as she stomped about the room, "Why not just ask me out? What's so hard about that? Even if I had to say no I'd be decent about it. It's just Donaldson holds no interest for me." She then blurted, "If anyone did it'd probably be someone like you, Jim!"

Jim looked up at her with a shocked look as hers was the same. Her face took on a sorrowed look as she spun on her heel and her rant continued. "There, see, my raging hormones continue. I had the audacity to invite you to go to the Las Vegas Wranglers the other night. We're both hockey nuts, right? It wasn't for a date but you left so quickly I thought I blew it because what other impression could you have."

As she marched by again during her venting, Jim tried to say louder, "It was me."

Iris was focused on what she was saying and still didn't hear him and stormed on by. She'd begun to emphasize her comments with arm and hand gesticulations. "And to top all this off, the very night we lose little James and it's killing both of us, how do I handle it but jump on you like a hormone-crazed teenager who's got the hots for you! I was shameful, purely shameful!"

This time as she came by, Brass had had enough and stood up to intercept her. He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a frustrated shake as he said fiercely and loudly to her, "IRIS, IT WAS ME!"

He saw himself awarded with an incredulous look from her that gave way to an expression of dismay at this revelation during which her doe-like eyes became huge as ferris wheels before he took her firmly by the arm and sat her down in her chair and sank back into his own.

After several moments of silence, Iris broke it in a small still voice. "Can I hear why?"

Brass leaned back with folded arms as he let a somewhat bitter laugh of his own go but it was now time for both of them to come clean. "I wanted to ask you out for quite a while now because you're the first woman I've been interested in for a long time. However, you're not quite like anyone I've met before and in this business that's saying a lot. Yet I waffled on the fence because, what if you said no."

"I would've said yes in a heartbeat even from the first because you caught my eye from the first day I got here," Iris allowed with a hint of a smile as she pointed her finger into his chest for emphasis.

"Hells bells, Iris, how was I to know? You treat every guy equally. I wouldn't have had a clue and I'm a detective," Brass growled back in exasperation.

"But all this effort, Jim?"

"You don't think I was capable of this?"

"It's not that! Please don't misunderstand, it's just I never thought myself worthy given my record on love's race track. I tend to think good girls come in dead last. That's why I wondered about the real motive," Iris clarified quickly.

A chuckle escaped Brass in spite of their ongoing discussion. "Well, then please hear my confession in its entirety, Investigator King. Like I said, I'd wanted to ask you out but then the night of the Rogers case you sang that little song that just went right through me. I took to heart what you said about the movie you liked and having a secret admirer of your own. I've seen that movie on cable before. So I called Gil and put my idea past him and asked if we could get all the guys involved as well. He said he was in and the rest of them followed suit. They'd all fall on a sword for you…me included. The guys picked what they thought you'd like for little gifts to go with the flowers. Warrick even helped me with the poems!"

Iris sat quiet and still, astonished, but finding she was hanging on Jim's every word. She was totally amazed by what he was sharing and surprised to the point of speechless as he continued.

"My whole purpose was to do something special and unique for you and at the end I meant to declare myself openly. In the midst of my secret admirer activities and having to play my role silently so that you don't suspect me in the least, we then had to mix in what was going on with the developments in the Rogers case which involved us more than we could have anticipated." Here Jim's voice changed as he outlined for her what he'd been experiencing.

He had Iris' full attention as he continued as he looked into those milk chocolate-brown eyes. "Look it, I'm not big on speeches but you were rock-solid in your care and support, Iris. You never wavered once and didn't bat an eye when I said my intention was to adopt the little guy. He had me wrapped around his little finger and a part of me always will be. I don't doubt you'd of signed up as his permanent babysitter like you said. That's another part of you that attracts me, I guess, is just that. You don't hesitate to give to anyone. You don't compromise on what's right or what you believe. I'd say you're pretty unimpeachable but I'll emphasize the pretty and peach part. I'm a simple nuts-and-bolt kind a guy, Iris, and romantic stuff can elude me at times, but you seem to understand me better than most. I just always feel comfortable around you."

She found herself coloring slightly at his words. "Jim, you see things as black and white, something I definitely connect with. You're honest and tell it like you see it, but you've also got this, how shall I say, uniquely sarcastic sense of humor which I secretly adore. You don't brown-nose or kiss butt to get ahead. You do your job no-nonsense but do it well. Your…wait a second, I'm hardly pretty."

"Hold that thought! You've seen "The Truth About Cats and Dogs, a chick flick first class, right?" Brass interrupted her.

"So what if I did?" Iris asked with a curious look.

"I know for a fact you did. My sleuthing took me to your local Blockbuster and it was a piece of cake finding out what you like to watch," Brass said a bit smugly.

"But what's that got to do…," Iris started to say when Jim held up his hand to stop her.

Brass pulled out a piece of paper from the breast pocket of his suit jacket. "Let me read this. It's the conversation going on between Abby and Brian where Brian's trying to talk to Abby who he thinks is in the bathroom and Donna who's really Abby."

"I'm getting a visual," Iris cocked her head at him.

"Here goes. Abby says 'You forgot to say I love you because you're beautiful.'

Brian replies 'No, I didn't. I mean, she is. But that's not why I love her. You know how someone's appearance can change the longer you know them? How a really attractive person, if you don't like them, can become more and more ugly; whereas someone you might not have even have noticed... that you wouldn't look at more than once, if you love them, can become the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. All you want to do is be near them.' Jim folded the piece of paper and carefully pocketed it and waited to see or hear how Iris responded.

Iris closed her eyes a moment while Brass held his breath before she said in the softest of whispers. "Is that how you see me? Then I find myself wanting to hug the stuffing out of you!"

"I vote for the hugging. Look it, Iris, there's outer and inner beauty and to me you've got a winning combination of both. Who says freckles aren't sexy?" Brass said firmly as he took the liberty of taking her face in his hands. .

"Sexy? I've never been called that ever," Iris said demurely with a weak laugh. "I mean look at Catherine who's stunning and Sara who's a classic beauty in her own right."

"Hmm, you may be wondering why I've never asked either of them out I suppose. Fair enough. First, Catherine's like a kid sister to me and we've been know to flirt but it never goes anywhere. Secondly, Sara I've always had a fatherly type of affection for and Gil's her guy and I totally approve of the match. The team is my extended family in its own way. I've got no one here besides Ellie and there's no ties back in Newark for me either," Jim stated and paused a moment.

Iris took the moment to slip her arm through his as discussion of baby James still evoked feelings of their mutual grief and loss.

"No one knows this but baby James is buried in the plot next to two others I purchased when I got here to Vegas years ago. You know, as a cop, you have to take care of those details. I figured Ellie could end up in a bad way given her track record and in case I ever married again I figured an extra one couldn't hurt," Brass finished gruffly with a heartfelt sigh.

"Jim, the way you opened up like that to truly take little James in makes the inscription of "cherished son" all the more appropriate. I think it's comforting to know where one will rest one day, " Iris said softly.

"You know, Iris, you're just bursting to give yourself to one lucky guy and I want to be on the receiving end of that. It's another thing about you that I find mighty appealing," Brass insisted.

"But there's still the matter of the other night, Jim," Iris groaned. "We nearly did the…did the…you know."

"It was touch and go, so to speak, since clothing was becoming optional at the point of red alert being sounded and I was close to sliding into third base before I got tagged out," Jim said with a hint of a grin remembering the event in the Bronco.

"So why did you stop?" she asked.

"No, why did you stop?" he replied instead.

"I thought you didn't want to have it happen with me and then I suddenly felt like it wasn't what I wanted because to be with you like that requires something better and I didn't want to settle. Yet I was hoping my horny teenager antics weren't totally wasted," she speculated with a suggestive raise of her eyebrows for fun.

"I did appreciate your so-called horny teenager antics. It's been a while since a woman last climbed all over me like that where I didn't have to pay for it," Jim remarked then saw Iris' lips go into an "O" shape. "I'm joking there, Iris, about the paying for it! Naw, seriously, it wouldn't have been right like you just said," he amended hastily.

"Because…?" Iris asked.

"Because when it happens and I think it will it has to be the right time and place for both of us. We're not ready for that level yet but I like the thought of anticipating it," Brass remarked with a sly wink for emphasis.

"I agree," Iris concurred shyly.

"So are we on good ground now?" Jim asked as he stood her up as he still clasped her hands in his. "I mean you're not going to whip this out at some future point in our relationship during an argument?"

"No, I wouldn't resort to that. I guess in that respect I'm an atypical female. Yes, we're on good ground now but can I just tell you that I was hoping you were my secret admirer something fierce," Iris said up at him with an honesty that charmed him further. His saying of "our relationship" Iris stowed away safely in her heart.

"Good, I was hoping, I wasn't a hundred percent sure, but you were worth all the effort and more," Brass told her softly. "Look I want this to start off on the right foot between us, okay?"

"Meaning," Iris said with a suddenly impish look.

"I've got two front row tickets behind the penalty box for next Friday's Las Vegas Wranglers game and I want to take you. We'll have dinner before or after, I don't care which," Brass informed her. He then kissed her forehead and she felt his warm breath as his lips traveled down her cheek. Her lips puckered expectantly but instead Jim raised her hands to place a kiss slowly on each one. He saw her disappointed expression as he added, "That's something to keep you in suspense until then and I can be very mushy when the situation calls for it."

Iris found herself chuckling at his antics as he broke into a grin as well before Iris suddenly looked at him thoughtfully.

"You know, Jim, I've come to have this take on what's happened over the last several days. I started getting things special delivery from you via the guys on the team. Baby James was a special delivery in his own way that helped us bond together too. I hope what happens in the future between us will be a special delivery in and of itself," she said hopefully.

"So does that mean you got your wish on that dandelion?" Brass teased her.

"Yes, I absolutely believe so," she declared firmly as he held the door open for her while they exited the interview room. Out in the hallway, Brass twined fingers with Iris as they walked up the hallway.

Each of them was grateful for this outcome because they could now admit there had been a strong but unspoken attraction for the other. Yet it had been kept concealed from one another and their workmates other than it being an acknowledged firm friendship.

As Brass and Iris continued up the hallway, they ran into Donaldson who was heading home after a stint on swing shift. Donaldson had always reminded Iris of a weasel with his tall, wiry frame and narrow face with a pointy nose and a mustache that looked more like whiskers. Even his eyes looked black and rodent-like. All he lacked was a long tail. His reputation as a brown-noser to Ecklie was known throughout the lab and his personality irritated virtually everyone. Even Hodges acknowledged that Donaldson took his ingratiating smarminess to a new level. Iris herself kept her interaction with him limited, especially after he'd made the crass attempt to ask her out.

"You still want to go skinny skydiving? The mile-high club can always use more members," asked Donaldson suggestively.

"We been there done that, Donaldson, but hell, don't you find those parachute straps chafe the nether regions?" Brass said seriously but Iris knew he was hamming it up.

Donaldson gave Brass a disbelieving look through narrowed eyes, jerking his thumb in Iris' direction, as he snorted, "That's a load, Brass, she'd never go!"

Iris found herself wanting to clobber the overconfident Donaldson at that moment but Brass stepped closer to Donaldson with an oh-so sarcastic smile.

"With the right guy she did," Brass disagreed with a growl. "It was a private flight but I can give you the name of the pilot who took us up over Lake Mead. He's a friend of mine."

The challenge was left hanging in the air as Donaldson seemed to size Brass up. "Well, I've always said Iris needed to broaden her horizons. I guess you're the man for the job."

"Damn straight," Brass said casually, draping an arm over Iris' shoulders.

"Congrats are in order then," Donaldson supposed with a shrug and a slight roll of his eyes before he went on his way.

"What a waste of skin," Brass commented as Donaldson disappeared around the corner out of earshot.

"So when are we going skinny skydiving? I'm up to it if you are," Iris asked while trying to appear the epitome of innocence to see if she caught him off guard.

"Well, I do have a pilot friend so whenever you want to fly the friendly skies," Brass replied without missing a beat before they both broke out chuckles.

Their route took them past Grissom's office who heard Brass say to Iris, "So should I pick you up at six o'clock on Friday?"

"Um, I work Friday so I'll have to check with Griss," Iris replied.

Grissom pulled at one ear to make sure he'd heard Brass correctly. Elated, Grissom found himself jumping up from his desk to hightail it to the doorway as Brass and Iris walked on by. Grissom hissed in a loud whisper to Brass, "Hey, Iris will have that night off!"

Brass did an about face with Iris for he still had an arm about her shoulders. "That's decent of you, Gil. Thanks again for you and the guys' support and help. It couldn't have been done without you."

Iris' smile was brilliant as she nodded Grissom's way while he noted the location of Brass' arm causing him to give her a broad grin in return.

As Brass and Iris continued up the hall, Grissom's smile continued for he knew he was seeing the genesis of something very special for his best friend and glad to have had a hand in it.

THE END

Thanks for reading and/or reviewing. The next installment in the Jim/Iris stories is in progress. Regards, LadyKestrel


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